


To Need Too Much

by ungoodpirate



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Never Been Kissed AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 07:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 49,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungoodpirate/pseuds/ungoodpirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He liked Blaine’s hands touching him, his lips touching him, his skin touching him. What feelings they teased out of him that he didn’t know he could feel. He liked how Blaine looked at him and how Blaine talked to him, like he was something to be admired. No one did that for him. They didn’t. "</p><p>Kurt's desperate for affection, and Blaine's the charming lead singer of the Warbler who knows he's a spy, but flirting with him anyway. A what if story... what if Kurt and Blaine hooked up the first time they met, and that defined their friendship and their feelings for each other from that point on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As the last dreads of Teenage Dream flitted from the air, Blaine smiled at Kurt, purposefully and directly from across the room. Blaine worked to disentangle himself from the crowd of congratulating prep boys, one snagging him by the arm as he tried to escape and whispering something in his ear. Kurt swore this particular boy had just glanced at him through narrowed eyes. Blaine said something, and disengaged the other boy’s hand from his arm. He came straight to Kurt. 

“So, what’d you think?” Blaine asked, sliding an arm over Kurt’s shoulders and directing them out the door into empty hallway.

“Amazing. All of it, and…” Kurt cut himself off.

“And me?” Blaine said.

Kurt ducked his head. “You were pretty good too.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Blaine said, and Kurt didn’t even release how fair Blaine was leading him from the senior commons, and how the din of the collected ramble was dying down to nothing. “Only the best for our very first spy.”

Kurt stopped short. Blaine kept walking, stepping around to face him. Blaine didn’t look angry, but Kurt wasn’t sure of anything.

“You knew the whole time?” Kurt said.

Blaine reached out and tugged at Kurt’s lapel like he’d done earlier, before the performance. “You’re kind of obvious.”

Kurt swallowed and said with a voice calmer than he felt, “Is this the part where I get beat up?”

“What? Christ. No,” Blaine said, his voice and expression transformed into something of shock. “Why would you think that?”

It was a rhetorical question, but Kurt comes up with an answer anyway. “I guess I’m cynical.”

Blaine’s face smoothed back into something more charming, definitely placating. “Okay, because this was going to be the part where I flirted shamelessly with you.”

Kurt just felt like he whammed into a brick wall, even more than this Blaine’s casual confession of knowing of Kurt’s spying. Expectations, this wasn’t it.

“Oh,” he managed to say. 

“Is that okay?” 

Did this guy really just ask if it was okay to flirt with him? Did flirting work like that? Kurt didn’t think flirting worked like that. He thought it was supposed to be coy, half-loaded secrets. A tentative touching of the subject, to see if it was shared. Of course, he couldn’t say much about flirting. He, apparently, came on too strong. He was flabbergasted now.  
(He had a lot of thoughts about this. About how he really knew that Finn was unobtainable all along. That he was just a safe stand-in to crush on when he was alone in a desperate tangle of confused teenage feelings.)

“Huh, sure.” Kurt was not particularly impressed with his own eloquence. 

“Good,” Blaine said, stepping close to Kurt again, this time taking his side and wrapping his arm safely around Kurt’s waist. “Why don’t you tell me exactly who you’re spying for as I give you a little tour of our humble abode.” 

So, Kurt told him, told him about McKinley and New Directions. And the jokes and comments made by Santana and Puck that drove him here. 

Blaine chuckled in a rather pleasing-to-Kurt’s-ears tenor. “We’re not all gay, but there’s probably more of us here than your average high school because we have the safety to be open. And, well… some of those things they say about same-sex boarding schools are true. Some.” 

Kurt wasn’t sure how much Blaine was teasing, but he wasn’t sure about of lot of things in the moment. Like, he wasn’t sure that the weight and warmth of Blaine’s arm across his back and rounding his waist was real, or if it was an incredibly elaborate, and welcome, hallucination. 

“So do you sing much in that glee club of yours?” 

“Not as much as I should be.”

“That’s too bad. I’m sure you have a great singing voice. You’re speaking voice is quite lovely.”

Kurt scoffed, but it was a pleased noise. “It’s kind of weird though. High.” He knew he had what a lot of guys didn’t have when it came to range, but he couldn’t disengage that from all the crap he got for his voice. Losing out solo parts because it was too weird for McKinley High to have him sing girl’s songs which best suited him. The bullies who had one more piece to throw at him as the insulted and hated him. 

“Not weird. Special.” Blaine released his light hold on Kurt – something Kurt missed the very millisecond it was gone. “One-of-a-kind Kurt.”

He brushed then the back of his fingers down across Kurt’s cheek and chin. Kurt’s mouth dropped into a little ‘o’ and he knew his eyes were wide. 

Who was this guy? This guy with intense hazel-eyes, and a light-up smile? Who had just sang a latest Top 40 love song to him and guided him with a steady arm around the school even though Kurt had been long found out? Who was leaning in closer now, and… Oh. 

That was a kiss. He was being kissed. 

It was nice, these softly insisting lips against his own. And Blaine’s hand cupped around his neck. And Kurt reaching out him to hold onto either of Blaine’s biceps. And how it took a moment for Kurt to establish himself enough in the moment to press back. And how, at that pressing back, the whole thing intensified. And who cared if they were in a hallway in a school. Kurt was getting his first kiss by a handsome boy who thinks Kurt is ‘one-of-kind.’ He never thought this would happen. 

They’re out of breath, panting in each other’s space where Blaine had tugged him close. Kurt’s not sure where his pulse ends and Blaine’s begins. 

“Do you want to take this somewhere more private?” Blaine asked. Kurt was not exactly sure what that entirely implies, but he knew he wanted this to continue. 

That was how he ended up on his back on a bed in Blaine’s dorm room. How Blaine was stripping off Kurt’s shirt and then his own. The rest of their clothes soon followed their shirts onto the floor. It was all moving quite a bit fast for Kurt, but he wasn’t opposed in the moment. He liked Blaine’s hands touching him, his lips touching him, his skin touching him. What feelings they teased out of him that he didn’t know he could feel. He liked how Blaine looked at him and how Blaine talked to him, like he was something to be admired. No one did that for him. They didn’t. 

And Blaine didn’t expect too much from him. He took the lead, but didn’t push it too far. He was a constant repeater of “Is this okay?” every time he touched somewhere new, or tried something new. It was all Kurt could do to breath yeses and god, yeses  
…

Kurt was lying naked in bed with another naked person. Sure, he lived consciously through everything that led up to this moment, but he still didn’t believe it. 

Kurt shifted in the bed. Blaine hmmed next to him. His eyes were closed, but they blinked open. 

“You good?”

Kurt stared a little at the ceiling before saying, “I’ve never done this before.” It was something he didn’t dare admit before it was in the midst of going down. 

“Hook up?” Blaine asked. 

“…anything.”

“Crap. Oh, crap.” Blaine sat up in bed and looked down at him. “You’re a virgin.”

“Was,” Kurt deadpanned, sitting up as well, leaning far forward. 

“I should’ve known. You were a little tentative.”

Kurt shrugged a shoulder in response. 

“Are you okay?” Blaine asked, sounding very concerned. Kurt wasn’t sure this was how hook ups usually go. 

Kurt smiled faintly. “I’m okay.”

Blaine must’ve not believed him, or else, wanted to reassure him more. “You were amazing, if that helps.” He pressed a kiss to the back of Kurt’s neck, along his spine. “Absolutely beautiful.”

“I don’t know about that,” Kurt said, and it wasn’t meant to sound so pathetic. It just slipped out. It was him, what he felt. And being called beautiful was nice, indescribably nice, but believing it was a different story.

He began to slip out of the bed, but Blaine caught him by the hand to stop him. “You really are,” he said, his eyes leaking earnestness. 

A second later, Kurt pulled away and went about dressing. He could feel Blaine’s eyes on him, and it was a bit unnerving, but this guy had already seen everything, so he tried to choke down the self-consciousness about his naked form for the next few minutes at least. Tried to hide the shaking of his hands as he buttoned his pants. 

“Can I see your phone?” Blaine asked. 

Not really thinking, Kurt dug it out of his pocket and handed it over. Blaine was rolled over on the bed now, resting on his elbows, his ass just barely covered with the sheet. He fiddled around with Kurt’s phone for a few moments as Kurt dealt with his socks and shoes then held it back out for Kurt to take.

“I put my name and number in there if you wanted to do this again sometime. I won’t be offended or anything if you don’t. But just in case.”

He flashed Kurt a wink.

Kurt left not long later, after assuring the still naked Blaine that he could find his own way out to the parking lot. 

On the drive home, his hands on the steering wheel were surprisingly firm, and his concentration on the road fairly clear. He expected more from himself after losing his virginity. He  
wasn’t numb, per se, but the loads of his conflicting emotions were cancelling each other out. 

He waited until he was safe at home to try and parse them out. Dissecting this piece of fulfillment from that piece of regret, the warmth of Blaine’s easily given compliments from the shallowness of the actions. There had been no love or trust behind them. It had been an act of, well, Kurt supposed Blaine’s libido, and from Kurt, his desperation for approval and affection. 

Kurt pulled out of his phone and clicked through a few screens to his phone book. There was Blaine’s name, near the top, the fate of alphabetical order. He wondered if he should text him now, just so Blaine could have his number too. Or if he should text and start a conversation. Kurt ultimately didn’t though, because Blaine hadn’t given his number for things like that.

…

Bang. Into the locker. It strung, like always, where the most direct contact his body made with the metal. This time his palm, and second, his one cheek. 

He turned around swiftly as he could while still uneasy on his feet to see the hulking form of Karofsky walking past. Of course it was Karofsky, who had taken a special interest in making his life miserable as of late. 

There was a sudden surge, a want, to chase after him. To tell him off. Get every anger off his mind, but it was quelled by reality, and the stupidity of it. Karofsky was significantly bigger than him, and obviously had very little restraint when it came towards mildly violent actions.

Instead, Kurt went to his phone, and for perhaps the hundred millionth time in the last five days, looked at Blaine’s name and number on his screen. Blaine-who-called-him-beautiful. Just thinking about that made him feel a little less, well, less. He could dare to feel that way again. 

Kurt quickly typed out this on his phone: “Hey, this is Kurt from last week. I was wondering if you wanted to, you know, again.” He pressed send before he had could over think the words or the decision he was making with them.

During his next class he got the response: “I get out of Warbler practice at five. What time can you get here?”

Not even Karofsky’s harassment could bet the settling feeling in Kurt’s gut – the feeling of having been bared to someone, and them still wanting you a second time around. 

…

Kurt kissed Blaine slowly and more experimentally than before. He had been so caught up in the shock and surprise the first time that he hadn’t truly appreciated the entirety of the sensations he gained from kissing boy lips. The lack of oddly flavored lip gloss was one improvement over his experiment of making out with Brittany about half a year before. 

Of course there was also the firmness of Blaine’s strong hands gripping at his waist. The feel of Blaine’s forming hard-on, still behind uniform pants, but pressing into Kurt’s thigh. And other things. The significantly heavier weight of Blaine lying on top of him as compared the lithe Brittany. The smell of him, some sort of pleasant and subtle cologne, the slight chemical of hair gel, and something distinctly boy. The sounds Blaine made, deep and scratchy, from his throat and chest. 

“I’m so glad you texted,” Blaine said when he lifted his mouth from where it had been making a probably impressive hickey on Kurt’s collar bone. 

“Me too,” Kurt said, and because he couldn’t just let a good thing lie and get back to the kissy-times, he added on, “I didn’t think I would.”

“I didn’t think you would either. Like I said last time. Tentative… Can I know what changed your mind?”

Kurt took a long breath and decided on a vague form of the truth. “Bad day. And last time I had a really bad day I came to spy here and you made me feel better.”

Blaine grinned and said, “Glad I could be of service” around that grin. He then slithered a hand between their bodies and cupped a hand around the lump of Kurt’s erection. Flirty, eyes turning a shade lustful, “Can I make you feel even better?”

Kurt nodded. Who was he to say to no the sensations sparking through his body, and the vestiges of want flooding his mind. He felt okay here. 

…

A week later, Blaine was the one to text Kurt, to ask him if he was free that night, the implications clear. Kurt was free, and Kurt went. It was then that it became a thing. Three times makes a habit, right?

…

He got to know Blaine, in the pieces of conversations they would have. Sometimes before they started, walking the stairs into the third floor of the dorm where Blaine’s room was. Or in  
their post-coital sleepy hazes. It was casual fair, inspired by the posters on Blaine’s walls – Katy Perry and West Side Story – or a book sitting out – a copy of Vogue, Patty LuPone’s recent biography that Kurt had just finished – and things like that. They shared a lot of interests. They could’ve been friends in their own right. 

Instead they were… fuck buddies? Kurt didn’t like the crudeness of that term. What he had with Blaine was more than fucks. Yes, it was no expression of pure love, he got that. But it was an expression of more than just fooling around. 

It really had to be. For Kurt’s own sanity. It had to be.

…

“So, I’ll be seeing you next Friday,” Blaine said after one of their trysts as Kurt was getting dressed.

“We don’t usually plan these things ahead,” Kurt said. 

Blaine chuckled. “No, I mean Sectionals.”

“Oh, right, I forgot.”

Kurt shouldn’t be forgetting. He actually had a lead for a song. Mr. Shue had offered, probably feeling pity for him after seeing him being shoved in the hallway and offer half-caring  
advice. That, on top of him giving a soul-crushing performance, while his father was in the hospital. 

“I’m I finally going to here you sing?” Blaine asked.

“We said we weren’t going to talk about glee clubs.”

“You to me. Not New Direction to Warblers. Come on, Kurt,” he said, whined really. It was all terribly cute, and Kurt couldn’t actually resist. 

“You might,” Kurt ended up answering, a tease of an answer through a smile. 

“I know we said we wouldn’t talk about glee club, but can I ask another question? What did you ever tell your glee club about your spying experience?”

Kurt scoffed, because that question was doubly loaded. He fiddled with a button on his blouse. “Nothing,” he said. 

“Nothing?”

“Well, the suggestion for me to spy on you guys wasn’t exactly serious. It was more like, ‘We don’t want you here, why don’t you go to the all boy’s school. That’s pretty gay.’”

Blaine’s face soured. “That’s right, you said something like that the day we met… I’m sorry. I know what it’s like for people to being pretty horrible about your sexuality. From my old school.”

“It really sucks,” Kurt said, and he hoped the impact of his feeling come through in that understatement of a sentence.

“It does.” That was the realest Blaine ever sounded. Vulnerable and hurt, and echoing with a lot more meaning what those words could convey. To that moment, Kurt hadn’t known Blaine beyond what was his shiny veneer, charming and likable. This was the sore spot they were sharing, and god, did it make Kurt feel more of a connection that it did to him before. 

It could’ve gone farther. It could’ve gone farther if either of them pursued it in that moment. But neither did. Still too hurt and too personal. And still not that trusting of each other. They trusted each other with their bodies and time, but not their souls and secrets. 

Kurt cleared his throat even though it wasn’t clogged. “I’ve got to hurry up and get home. My dad’s expecting me.”

He was about to leave, when Blaine called to him from the bed, “Come here.” 

Kurt went. Blaine took hold of Kurt’s arm. If it had been almost anyone else, he would have had some visceral reaction. A stiffening or a shrugging off or a pulling away. But he wasn’t scared or uncomforted of Blaine’s touch. Blaine pulled him in and brushed a closed-lipped kiss against Kurt’s mouth. It was really chaste for them, a kiss that wasn’t going to be followed by immediate intimacy. 

“For good luck,” Blaine said.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt was thrumming after they got off the stage. Performances always left him with an adrenaline rush, especially competitive performances. But this was beyond that, having had a lead for the first time. He was getting a cascade of pats on the back and half-hugs, even from Rachel, who had been having a perpetual fit over Kurt taking away one of her solos. 

Now all that was left was the judging. There was a knock on their green room door.

“That was fast,” Quinn said. Puck was closest to the door and opened it to reveal a small cluster of Warblers, including Blaine. Kurt bit the inside of his cheek, waiting to see what would happen. 

“What do you want?” Puck said, stretching up to his full height and lowering his voice menacingly. Considering their experience with their rival show choirs last year, it made sense. Mr.   
Schue salvaged the situation by pushing in front of Puck.

“Can I help you?”

The Asian boy heading the clump of Warblers – Wes, Kurt believed, something he picked up from those bed-talk conversations with Blaine – stuck out a hand and said, “We just came by before the judging to congratulate you guys on a good show.”

Most of the New Directions was surprised, including Schue, but the Warblers clearly couldn’t sabotage them at this point. Mr. Schue shuck Wes’ hand, accepting his congratulations and let them in the room. Mercedes and Tina were giggling behind their hands to each other, probably commenting on the cute prep boys, if Kurt knew either of those girls. 

The three Warblers plus Blaine made their way around the room, shaking hands and giving specific compliments to some of the standout singers and dancers. 

When they got to Kurt, Blaine said to him, “You’re solo was quite impressive,” in a tone like he didn’t know him even though his eyes were tinkling. 

“Yours too,” Kurt said. They had been shaking hands, all polite, but the hands had stopped shaking, but just held. 

“Well, we should be getting back to our green room before they call us back on stage,” Wes announced. “Come on, Blaine,” he then said, specifically. Blaine dropped his hand and Kurt’s hung in the air after his. 

“Later,” Blaine mouthed, barely readable except for Kurt staring straight and so heavily at him. The Warblers left the room. 

Santana stepped up next to him, and said around a little amused and shocked scoff, “Oh my god, you two are fucking.”

Kurt froze, jaw clenched. 

“I’m totally right, aren’t I?”

“No,” Kurt said, not very convincing. 

Santana was laughing, and not her cruel, manufactured Cheerio laugh, but a real laugh, hearty and amused, if still viciously so. “I can’t believe it. So who t—”

Kurt turned toward her sharply and said in a low voice, “Not here.” He then walked away from her, crossing the room to join Mercedes and Tina, hoping that Santana wouldn’t retaliate by shouting this all out to the room. 

She didn’t. She was glaring at him though. It wasn’t necessarily a relief, though. Santana liked the power game. She had more control of him containing this secret than spreading it, at the moment. 

…

On the bus ride back, mostly celebrating except for Rachel – who was planning for Regionals already and woe-ing of their tied position, announcing loudly it was because she been given full spot light they had slipped down from winning outright, Kurt’s phone buzzed in his pocket. 

He peaked to make sure he was clear. He was near the front of the bus. Santana was well in the back with Brittany. 

“You really were pretty awesome today,” read a text from Blaine.

“And you as well ,” Kurt responded, typing quickly. 

“I didn’t realize we could tie though,” Blaine texted him next. Followed quickly, “Wes is scrutinizing the rulebooks about it, but I don’t think he should be too picky. We didn’t make it past Sectionals last year.”

“There are some mixed feelings on this bus, but at least it was a clean victory this year and we got to sing the songs we rehearsed.”

“What?” 

“Long story. I’ll tell you sometime.”

“This Sunday maybe? If you’re not busy, you could come over for…”

He always left it out of the texts. So did Kurt. In case it was found it could always be read and explained away as something different. 

“A mutual victory celebration?” Kurt suggested, feeling bold. He would never say that allowed, but a typed innuendo was easy enough.

“Exactly ;)” came Blaine’s reply. 

… 

“So, you’re boyfriend’s pretty hot,” Santana was leaning up against the locker that wasn’t hers, but was right next to Kurt’s. It was after glee and most of the school clubs and sports   
were over. The hallway was empty, but her voice still sounded so loud. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Kurt said. He jammed his Norton Anthology into his satchel. 

She pushed off the locker to stare at him. “Wait, you’re fooling around with him and you’re not dating?” Santana gave him a look that was positively impressed. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Hummel.”

“I didn’t either,” Kurt grumbled, and she wasn’t even trying to make him miserable and was making him miserable. He slammed his locker shut and started away from her. 

“You can’t run away from me,” she said, trotting up beside him. 

“Why do you even care?” he shot back.

“This is like the juiciest thing I’ve heard all year. And I’m the first one to know.”

“And you know that…?”

“Because the only other people who would know would be someone in glee, and none of them can keep a secret to save their lives.”

It was sadly, mostly true. 

He tried to out walk her, but she wasn’t short like Rachel, so she kept up with him easily. 

“The best way to get me not to blab this to the entire glee club – because let’s face it, they are enough torture as it is to be around – is to tell me more.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive,” Kurt muttered. 

“Wow, this really is your personality. I thought you might loosen up after you finally got laid,” Santana retorted. 

“Can you please just leave me alone,” he said, and a little more desperate, but obviously so. Maybe because he heard the familiar laughter of the a particular group of the football team   
down this very hall. A slam of the lockers. Something that made him squeeze tight inside, uncomfortable, waiting for pain, and desperately searching for an escape route. They weren’t too near yet. He could retrace his steps, find another way out of the school. They hadn’t seen him. And even if it was Santana, he wasn’t totally alone. 

“Kurt,” Santana said, and she sounded worried and concerned. Though Kurt didn’t hear that in her tone. He was too preoccupied. 

“Look,” Kurt said, turning to her and finally spouting out an answer, too truthfully, to all her questions, “When you’re a gay kid in Lima, you take what you can get. And if that is a handsome, nice guy who wants to have sex with you on a semi-regular basis, but nothing more, even though you secretly really want everything else too, then go with it.” Unsaid is, even   
though it kills you a little inside, but without it, you were dying anyway, in a slightly different variation.

“Woah,” Santana said. “Look, Hummel, let me tell you something that they like to preach to girls and not guys, because they –”

“Who’s they?” Kurt cut across bitterly. 

Santana rolled her hand in the air. “They,” she said again, as if the meaning were clear. “They think girls feel one way about sex and guys feel another way and it is totally backwards and bullshit and heteronormative.” Kurt had to wonder where she picked up heteronormative because he knew it from his own reading, but it certainly wasn’t something bandied around in McKinley high school classes. “But it’s this. And it’s important. You can’t sleep with someone and expect them to fall in love with you.”

“Like you do with Brittany,” Kurt shot back at her, not sure where it was coming from. His own suspicious that their friendships and their hot bisexual Cheerios act was something more than what it seemed. And heteronormative. If Santana going pale was anything to go by, he hit the nail on the head. 

“Looks like I found some juicy gossip on you too,” Kurt said.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said back, eyes narrowing. 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t. Just like you won’t spill mine either, because if word got out that I was actually acting on my flaming homosexuality, even with someone well outside this school, my life here would be made even more of a living hell than it already is.”

… 

What Santana had said wouldn’t leave him alone. It was gnawingly persistent at his thoughts, and when it was pushed back by other things, it still laid like a dormant weight and stress waiting to be noticed yet again. 

Kurt fell easy and fast when it came to affection. Last year, all Finn had to do was show some moderate kindness and friendship and Kurt crushed harder than anything he had ever crushed before. And it exploded in his face. He didn’t want to relive that. What he shared with Blaine was already a hundred times more deep and complimented than what was shared with Finn. It was only natural, being who Kurt was, that he had feelings for Blaine. And who didn’t want their feeling returned?

So they were both dressing after, his back to Blaine – Kurt was still too shy about his body – and he figured, might as well say it. Well, more than figured. More like contemplated deeply on the entire drive to Dalton. It was scary, but he did it. 

“Blaine… I, I like you. More than just a hook up.” He looked over his shoulder to gage Blaine’s reaction, but all he got a sight of was Blaine hoping as he tugged up his pants. 

“I like you too, Kurt,” Blaine said. Kurt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Even though Blaine sounded awfully blasé saying it. But Kurt wasn’t really going to spend all day analysis Blaine’s inflection. He liked Kurt too. Maybe it would all work out for Kurt. They could date. Be boyfriends. Fall in love. It was like elation, his spirit literally lifting out of his body, nothing could attach him to the floor at that moment, not even gravity itself.

“I really consider you to be a good friend.”

Gut, meet foot. 

The slamming down and deflation of everything Kurt had just thought he had in his grip and was now away, it was so harsh. And Blaine didn’t even mean it to be harsh. He just misunderstood. 

He was trying to be nice.

“Right,” Kurt said. “Friends.”

…

“Why do you have to be so right?” 

It was just Kurt and Santana. He wouldn’t have searched her out to say it, but he was in the choir room during lunch, alone, and she just walked in.

“I know things,” she said, then, more seriously, “I read people. I’ve been through my own shit… glad someone is finally acknowledging how right I am. Not enough people do.”

She took the chair next to Kurt, and there was a fair gap between them. They weren’t touching. They weren’t friends enough for that brand of comforting to be warranted or appreciated. 

“You still going to mess around with him?” she asked, and it had none of her usually sassy flair.

“Probably,” Kurt said. 

“Well, that’s what we do. People like us, in a place like this. We take what we can get.”

They sat in a silence that was them, the first time as people, sharing something on this earth. It could have been beautiful, if the truth they were sharing hadn’t been so bitter. But the connections made over bitter truths somehow ran deeper and truer than those over shared happiness. Wallowing in happiness never made happiness expand, but wallowing in grief made it a little less burdensome. 

“He is hot though,” Santana said. “When I said that the other day, I never got to finish congratulating you on that.” 

Kurt let out a shock of a laugh. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Thanks definitely. How hot your partner is, is a reflection on your own hotness. Last year I wouldn’t have believed it. You were kinda weird looking.”

“You can stop complimenting me now,” Kurt said.

Santana continued without paying him any heed. “But you’ve been growing into yourself. Sprouting up, losing the baby fat in your face, wearing the right cut of jeans for your ass.”

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore,” Kurt said, because if anything was worth than Santana insulting his looks, it was describing the favorable ones. It just felt wrong. 

“I’m not the only one who’s noticed the ass. I’ve caught more than one guy in this school checking yours out.” 

Kurt scoffed. “You’re joking.”

“Maybe someone of them mistook you as a girl from behind for a second. Maybe they’re like Puck, and they can just appreciate a nice ass –”

“Puck?” Kurt said, sort of horrified. 

“But some of them gots to be totally closeted, and be hot for you.”

“No way,” Kurt said. 

She pursed her lips and raised a saucy eyebrow. “Kurt, I am three times the judgmental bitch that you are. I notice these things. You know that one or two of those football players who pushes you around all the time is doing it just to get their hands on you.”

Kurt could feel himself go pale at that very suggestion. He had been in disbelief before at all her pronouncements, but that one was just sickening. Because he could believe it. 

The bell rang, and Santana stood of neatly, not noticing Kurt’s dismay. “Crap, class,” she said, flicking her curled ponytail over her shoulder. “Nice chat, Hummel.” It almost didn’t sound   
sarcastic. 

Kurt got up from his seat and left the choir room. He hadn’t gotten around to eating, but he really couldn’t feel his stomach gnawing at itself at the moment. He went to class, took notes, went to the next class, took notes, and yet it was all mechanical.

Karofsky slammed him into the lockers at the end of the day, and Kurt could tell, now that he was looking for it, that his hands lingered longer than necessary. It all made sick, twisted sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less Klaine and especially Blaine this chapter, I know, but I needed to open up the story to other characters. Next chapter is mostly complete already. It’s from Blaine’s perspective. So wait for that. I’ll give it to you on Christmas Eve, how about that?


	3. Chapter 3

“You’ve been seeing a lot of that spy.”

“Kurt, Wes, Kurt.”

Wes snapped his history text book shut, a declaration of him finishing his reading. “If that is his real name.”

Blaine rolled his eyes at Wes’ antics. “He’s really hot.”

“A gentleman keeps what happens in his bedroom in his bedroom, Blaine.”

“You’re the one who brought it up, Wes,” Blaine retorted in exactly Wes’ cadence. “And you can’t deny he’s hot.”

Wes straightened in his seat and said, “As a straight man, I can look at the spy and see what the appeal would be – for you.”

Wes tended to structure his statements like that ‘as a straight man’, ‘as an Asian American’, ‘as a member of the Warbler council’, and the like. It was charming or annoying, depending on the day.

“And he’s sweet,” Blaine tagged on. 

“I didn’t know that was something that was looked for in hook ups,” Wes said blandly, half paying attention as he opened up his laptop, Blaine presumed to start on a paper. 

Blaine looked over the Algebra problem he was supposed to be solving. It was true. But Blaine was never found of the whole, be seductive until you got fucked, then run away as fast as you could afterwards tactic very appealing. He actually liked being nice to people. It was easier and more satisfying that being rude. And he liked being liked. And he was totally into being treated that way in return. So, yes, he liked Kurt. 

(Kurt who texted him back. Kurt who talked to him after sex about the posters on his walls or the books on his shelf. Kurt who was a virgin and now wasn’t a virgin, and had trusted Blaine to be a part of that rite of passage.)

“It’s better than being with a jerk,” Blaine eventually said. Wes just grunted, typing away at his keyboard. He had half-forgotten the conversation by now. Blaine must have been pondering his friend’s comment longer that he first believed. 

He stared at the algebra homework, only half a mind concentrating on it. Thankfully a few minutes later his phone started to go off and he would use any excuse for an undeserved break.

Wes was glaring at him, but Blaine picked up the phone instead of silencing it. Kurt’s name was splayed across the screen. Kurt was calling him. Kurt never called him before. 

“Hey, Kurt.”

“Hey, um, are you doing anything this evening?” came Kurt’s wavering voice. He sounded off, but sometimes people just sounded different when on the phone. 

“Catching up on some homework and studying –”

“Oh, well, never mind, I don’t want to get in the way of your grades,” Kurt quickly excused, but he sounded upset. At least as fair as Blaine could judge. Disappointed. And having someone disappointed not to be able to see him… it was a rather reaffirming notion.

“It’s not that important,” Blaine said. “Nothing urgent.”

‘It’s not that important,’ Wes mouthed at him with a sneer. School was a priority for Wes, though. It was all height of importance to him. 

“Oh, okay, good,” Kurt said. “Because I’m already in the parking lot… I was thinking out of order today.”

“That’s fine. I’ll meet you at the front door of my dorm to let you in, sound good?”

“Sounds great,” Kurt said. Blaine thought it should’ve sounded flirty. It sounded drained instead.

The call ended, Blaine started to pack his notebooks and pencils into the satchel he used in favor of a backpack-style book bag. 

“Well,” Blaine said, pulling the satchel onto his shoulder. “I’m going to be indisposed for a few hours. Kurt’s here.”

“You don’t need to make that smug I’m getting laid face, Blaine. It was implicit from context.”

“Don’t be jealous because you’re sexually frustrated,” Blaine teased.

“I have a girlfriend,” Wes said matter-of-factly.

“Yes,” Blaine said, “But both of you are too preoccupied with getting into the Ivy League to actually date.”

“It’s called prolonged gratification, Blaine,” Wes said. His fingers never paused in flying over his keyboard. 

Blaine smirked, and he couldn’t help what he said next. The set up was just too good. “I know a thing or two about prolonged gratification.”

“Stop with the high school level innuendo. It’s not becoming on you. Now go charm the pants off some guy, or whatever. But if you end up with B’s by the end of the semester, well…”

“If I end up with B’s by the end of the semester, I think I will manage to suffer that horrible fate.”

When he met Kurt at the door of his dorm building, he was given a weak smile that was nowhere near believable. 

“You alright?” Blaine asked.

Kurt must have knew his fraying edges were showing, for he adjusted his posture but didn’t deny anything. “Just a long day.”

As soon as Blaine’s bedroom door shut behind them, Kurt pounced, hands gripped tightly in Blaine’s uniform shirt and mouth pressed hard against Blaine’s. It was a change for even after all these visits together, Kurt usually was the one who needed a little coaxing into the mood. Not that Blaine was complaining.

He nestled one arm around Kurt’s waist and tangled the other in the back of his hair. Mouths never parting, they inched their way to the bed on unsure feet. Legs hitting against the edge, Blaine tumbled back first, taking Kurt with him.

While they struggled to take off their clothes without unlocking lips, Blaine felt something – then tasted something. Wet on his cheeks and salt on his lips.

“You’re crying,” Blaine stated, pulling back from Kurt and staring at him.

Kurt ignored him and just pushed forward, leaning into the gap between them and starting the kissing again. Blaine just pulled further back, putting his hand on either of Kurt’s shoulders to keep him there. 

“You’re crying, Kurt,” Blaine said again.

“I’m not,” Kurt said, though at the same time as wiping as his cheeks with the cuff of his sleeve. 

“What’s wrong?” Blaine persisted. 

“Will you please just forget this, and go along with the rest of it,” Kurt said. His eyes were still plenty glossy. 

“I don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” Blaine said. How could be go along with a detached fuck when he knew his partner was in distress? Yes, the whole point of hook ups were   
getting the fun of sex without all the emotional tangles that came with dating and relationships. But he always wanted his sexual partners to be willing and content and in a good state when they engaged with him. First, it made it better for everyone. Second and more importantly, it was the right thing to do.

“We’re friends, right, Kurt? Please tell me what’s wrong.” Blaine reached a hand out to touch Kurt’s arm, perhaps give it a reaffirming grip, but Kurt jerked away at the first brush of his fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said immediately after the sudden reaction. He sunk down in on himself. “Just a really bad day.”

“You can tell me,” Blaine said. “I promise, this a judge free zone.”

Kurt racked his bottom lip through his teeth, not looking at Blaine. Not looking anywhere, really, in the room, but into somewhere and something else. 

“This girl I’m in glee club with… today, she made a joke about how some of the jocks in my school that…” he heaved a dejected sigh, “that bully me do it because they actually have a thing for me.”

“And that upset you?” Blaine asked carefully. He got bullying. He got it. Understood how it could drive you to the edge of what you believed would be the end of you. But the particular joke, well, everyone had their unique breaking points. 

Kurt swallowed, and it was a clearly visible. He was steeling himself, chocking down the worst to get out the worst. Blaine had been there. In fact it almost hurt to see himself mirrored in Kurt right there. A past self, a self still inside, but carefully folded away and partitioned away from the surface.

“She was right,” Kurt said, a whisper upon a bed of horror. “This one guy, he’s always been a jerk but he’s really concentrated his attention on me lately. And… I didn’t get it, until she joked about it. It all falls together – the obsessive attention, the stares, the invasion of personal space, the shoves that linger in their touch.” Kurt shudders then. Blaine couldn’t fault him for it. It was making his nauseous himself. 

“I don’t want it to feel like that,” Kurt said, voice a little stronger. “It shouldn’t feel like that.” He ducked his chin in. “You don’t make me feel like that.”

“For that I’m thankful,” Blaine said in heavy, relieved way. There was no joke or charm about that. 

“So I—,” Kurt said. He paused to squeeze his eyes shut, pushing back tears probably. “I want to be reminded what it’s supposed to feel like. Remind me?” 

It was a plea, but Blaine’s guts were still rolling uncomfortably at Kurt’s confession. 

“Kurt, I –”

But he had nothing to say. Or maybe a lot to say, but it was all unformulated and confused in his mind. He had a history of his sexuality being used against him as an excuse to be cruel to him. Never had any of his sufferings, though, been sexually charged. 

Just then, Kurt’s stomach growled loudly, surprising both of them.

“How much have you eaten today?” Blaine said. He had been on the other half of stressed and scared, and knew how it resulted in a lack of appetite. 

Kurt blinked then answered, “Not much at all.”

Any excuse would have worked, but this at least was a proper enough one, for Blaine to pop off the bed and make a grab at his blazer on that back of his chair. “Get your shoes back on Kurt. We’re going out for food.”

“What?”

“Out for food. I don’t need you passing out from hunger. And we can talk some more about what’s going on, … or about something else if you prefer a distraction.”

Kurt seemed unsure about this sudden change of plan, but he went along, pulling on his shoes, without much protest. It might’ve been the testament to how off he was feeling from his day and the horrible epiphany it contained. Or that what Blaine could’ve given him in the bedroom was not all that much what he wanted anyway. 

There was a relatively inexpensive diner not far off campus that was popular with the Dalton boys. It had a large selection, fast service, and plenty of greasy and guilty favorites. Kurt didn’t appear all that interested in eating when they got there, so Blaine ordered them French fries and milkshakes, and Kurt might’ve given him an odd look at that request. Blaine dared him back with a “trust me” look, and Kurt rolled his eyes with no further protest. 

It was an entire bantered conversation without words. 

When the food arrived, the first thing Blaine did was a dip a French fry into his shake and eat it. 

Kurt made a face. “That’s gross.”

“It’s delicious, actually. Try it,” Blaine countered. 

“Why would I want to try that?” Kurt said, and it was with some spark. Seeing the attitude felt like the weight was beginning to lift off them. Maybe temporarily, but for now…

“It’s like a chocolate-covered pretzel. Salty and sweet. Come on, Kurt, try new things.”

“I think I’ve tried more than a few new things with you,” Kurt replied. Blaine had to keep himself from laughing too loudly. 

“That’s true,” Blaine said, struggled to keep a relatively straight face. “And if you could trust me for those, I think you can trust me for this.”

Kurt sighed. “You make a point.” He plucked a fry from the plate and dipped it into his chocolate shake, then stuffed it in his mouth. 

“… that actually is good.”

“See!”

“Don’t gloat, Blaine. It’s not becoming.”

Blaine was a wearing a face-splitting grin. He could feel it and couldn’t help it. Kurt was glancing up at him and then down at the table again. Blaine waited for him to say something, but   
nothing came of that action.

Blaine footed the bill with a “my treat” and as they get ready to leave their booth, Kurt spoke. “Thanks for this. It’s making me feel at least a little bit better. I don’t anything else   
would’ve.”

“Good,” Blaine said. 

“I guess we really are friends.”

“Of course.”

“I know we said it… but us seeing each other has already been based around one thing.”

Blaine sobered up quite a bit at that. He sucked in his lips, released them with a breath. “You know,” he said. “If you need something… a favor or someone to talk to… you can call me,   
and it doesn’t have to be under the guise of anything else. When I said we’re friends… I meant it.”

Kurt nodded. “Thank you,” he said. He laughed, and it might be Blaine’s imagination, but his eyes looked a little red. “Are you like this with all your hook up buddies?” 

He might’ve meant it as purely a joke, but that was not how Blaine felt it. In fact, he felt it a lot different. It was a question he had of himself too. “No.” 

Kurt was tentative before asking the next question. “Why not?”

“It wasn’t a conscious decision,” Blaine said. He thought of past hook ups, of lovers who snuck out while you were still sleeping, or asked you to leave their room as soon as it was done.   
Others who were still closeted and unsure and wouldn’t dare look at you the days after. 

“Because you wanted to be friends with me too,” Blaine said. 

“Of course I do,” Kurt said, very vehemently and very swiftly, and it was so sure, even if Kurt went a little pink from his exclamation. “I mean,” he said, “Who wouldn’t?”

“Most people looking for that, well,” Blaine leaned forward to whisper for they were still in public, “Like to fuck and dash.”

“Was I doing it wrong all along, talking after?”

“Some would say, but I didn’t mind.” It was an understatement, but Kurt understood. Blaine could tell. 

“Well,” Kurt said, “I should get home.” He stood slowly, reluctantly perhaps, and glanced at Blaine as he did so. He didn’t catch Blaine’s eye, but was just looking. Blaine could see him   
looking at him, maybe more than Blaine understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter with Blaine. Next chapter will have Burt.


	4. Chapter 4

That was it. Kurt was in love with Blaine. He had tried to stop it, had tried to damn up his feelings and prevent them from flowing and filling up everything inside him, but he had failed, completely and absolutely. Pretty typical for him. And Blaine wasn’t helping, you know, by being perfect. 

He curled up in his bed and buried his head in his pillow. There were too many emotions pounding through him. The fierce bitterness of his particular bullying problem that had yet to be solved. Then the lovely taste of Blaine’s friendship still weighed on his tongue, of course, it had its own unpleasant aftertaste too. Not that there was anything wrong with Blaine’s friendship, but that wasn’t the only thing Kurt wanted from him. 

He wanted Blaine’s love back. He wanted Blaine to like him more than a hook up and more than a friend. It seemed odd to Kurt, that he finally found an out gay boy his age. One who got along with Kurt on a personal level, one who became a good friend, and one who wanted Kurt sexually. And yet, and yet, Kurt was still unfulfilled. 

He got out of bed, and went downstairs. He should start on dinner. His dad was still on the mend from his recent heartache and resulting coma. 

He started his dinner in the kitchen, and Dad shuffled into his room. 

“You were out late last night.”

“I as studying with Mercedes,” Kurt said. It was a lie he had prepared in his repertoire for any questions about his absences. This time was the first it had come up, even though Kurt had been dashing away from home to Dalton fairly regularly as of late. 

“Really? Because she called here last night looking for you. You weren’t answering your cell.” There was something to his father’s voice – too calm, too even, not nearly angered or skeptical enough for a parent who just found an obvious flaw in their teenager’s alibi. That’s what made Kurt nervous. 

“Oh,” Kurt said. “What I meant to say was…” Kurt wasn’t really handling this clean up well.

“What you meant to say?” his dad asked, and gave him a fully penetrating ‘I can see right through you, kid’ look.

Kurt gripped the edge of the counter behind him. “I don’t know what to say,” he said, which was probably the stupidest thing to say. 

“You’ve been out a lot lately, into the afternoon and evening, unaccounted for. I didn’t ask because you’re a good kid and I figured you were with friends and doing stuff for that glee club of yours… but now you weren’t where you said you were?”

Kurt felt guilty. His dad was using one of those “disappointed parent” voices that teens everywhere had no immunity to. Plus, he doesn’t want to worry or upset his father who was still healing, who has done and put up with so much for Kurt. 

“Now, Kurt, I’m not dumb. I was a teenager once, and I know why kids try to sneak around on their parents. So, is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“No.”

“No?” Burt asked skeptically.

Then a lie, a perfect lie, came to Kurt. It was vicious and emotionally manipulative, but he could not admit the truth to his dad. That would be horrifying. 

“I’ve been going to the graveyard a lot. It’s a good place to think.”

He didn’t need to mention Mom or her gravestone. The mood of the room instantly shifted. His dad looked sad. Kurt felt like a piece of shit. 

Burt stepped forward and gripped Kurt’s shoulder in consolidation of the gap that both of them had in their very beings without Mom there. Kurt looked down and away from his father’s eyes. It must have looked like a show of sadness to Burt, but to Kurt it was an avoidance from telling a lie, and such a heavily-implicated one. 

Burt cleared his throat, like his own vocal cords had been stopped up with unspoken emotion. “It’s never the same without her,” he managed to say.

Kurt nodded, still not lifting his eyes. Burt pulled him into a quick bear hug. 

When he released Kurt, he said, “I know you don’t have an easy time of it High school is tough for most people, but you got a whole lot of added prejudice and stupidity aimed at you. But I’m always here for you, you know?”

“I know,” Kurt said. 

“Good,” Burt said. Then, trying to lighten the mood, “Let me help you make dinner.”

The two of them, son and father, worked easily and quietly in the kitchen, preparing a meal for the night. As they started to move the dishes over to the table, Kurt asked his father, “What did you think I was doing?” 

It didn’t need clarification, and it meant that Burt’s head was still wrapped up in the now past conversation during their mutual silence as Kurt’s had been.

“Well, I was pretty sure it wasn’t drugs,” Burt said, almost teasingly. 

Kurt gave his father a bit of a bitch glare over the suggestion. He would never do drugs.

“It was just suspicious, Kurt. And I’m your parent. I’m supposed to know where you are and why in order to keep you safe… and for my peace of mind.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, Dad,” Kurt said, and that was at least genuine. 

“It could’ve been anything you were doing,” Burt continued. “Like I said, I trust you, and you’re a good kid, but even good kids make mistakes. I didn’t know if you were getting in trouble, were in trouble, or if it was more on the innocent side.” Burt paused for a moment then let out a laugh.

“What?” Kurt asked. 

“Part of me thought it could even of been… well, when I was in high school, hiding things from parents a lot of time meant sneaking out to see some girl or guy you were secretly dating.”

“Let me tell you,” Kurt said, realistically bitter, “I wish it were that one.”

…

Kurt never used to think of the neck as a particularly sensual part of the human body. But that was before. Before he had experienced Blaine nipping, kissing, licking, and sucking at it. Objectively speaking, sex was all sorts of great feeling. Experiencing it, Kurt got why people were so obsessed with it. It just damn feels good. 

It might have been a terribly sappy thought, but for Kurt, the best part came after. Half-conscious, both sated, Blaine spooning up next to Kurt. Cuddling him. The intimacy of that was beyond expectations.

Kurt pressed his nose into Blaine’s bed head of hair because he could, and it was the only situation that he could. Only after sex. Kurt thought his motivations for coming here had changed. Before he had been the ache of want for sex and what the meant when it was sex with Blaine – being wanted, being appreciated, being complimented, being seen as beautiful, being made to feel something was so simply good. 

Now it was about after. About cuddling. About the exchanges of pillow talk, so that if Kurt extracted it from the context, he could dream it was something more than it was. That is wasn’t just no strings after sex cuddling, but after sex cuddling when they were dating, when they exchanged ‘I love yous’ amidst their pants of passion. 

It wasn’t that though. He didn’t have that context. He didn’t have the context of cuddling while watching a movie, fully-clothes. Or cuddling as the collimation of a date. He had this, so he did his best to absorb it. 

“Why…?” Kurt started, not even realizing the word had escaped, but quickly cutting off the rest of his thought. 

“Hmmm?” Blaine made the noise half into the pillow. 

“Nothing,” Kurt said.

Blaine lifted his head. “Really, what?”

“I was just wondering… the other day you said you like being nice with your, ah, hook up buddies or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

“And that you liked… friendships.”

“Both true.”

“So… I was just curious why you choose to… not be in a relationship, like, instead. You could have a friendship, and be nice, and have sex all in one.”

Blaine was quiet for a moment then said, “Do I need a reason?”

“No. I was just curious. Forget it,” Kurt said, because he knew this could very easily turn into a fight, or at least something uncomfortable. And if that awkwardness infected this, these small, but infinitely treasured moments, he wasn’t sure he could stand the withdraw. 

“Why do you do it?” 

It was a response that Kurt hadn’t been prepared for. 

Kurt gulped. “Because it makes me happy,” he ended up saying, and it was true enough. What he didn’t say, which was more accurate to say, was because it’s with you.

…

Blaine didn’t know why the question was bothering him so much. He’s a teenage boy with hormones and no need to settle down any time soon. But it nagged at him regardless – why did he hook up? 

It’s not like he needs some Freudian excuse. He’s not damaged or broken. Yet, the question wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“Wes, why do people have casual sex?”

“You’re asking me? I’m a commitment guy.”

“I know you’re in a long distance relationship with Princeton –”

“Blaine –”

“I’m asking you because you’re so smart,” Blaine said, “And I want an outside perspective.”

Wes pulled his reading glasses off. “Flattery will get you everything.”

“I know,” Blaine said with a grin.

“I believe,” Wes said, “As a man who has watched the sexcapades of his friends and peers, that the reasons are multifaceted.

“You sound like you’re writing an essay on the mating habits of prep school boys.”

“I could and it would get an A.”

“I don’t doubt it. Please, continue.”

Wes cleared his throat and started again. “Multifaceted. They’re afraid of commitment, or uninterested in it at the time. They’re still exploring their sexuality. They want sex, but they don’t have the option of having it inside a relationship. And, of course, there is always the classic self esteem issues. There is no one reason, of course.”

“Of course,” Blaine parroted back, perhaps more confused. 

“Sex,” Wes continued, as if coming to the ending of a speech, “Is a pure, primal thing that most humans desire, but seek under a diverse set of circumstances.”

“Wow.”

“I know – I am pretty brilliant,” Wes said, and it should have been intolerably pompous, but it wasn’t.

Blaine weighed the next question in his head before he asked it.   
“Why do I?”

Wes’ eyebrow were squinted together when he looked up at Blaine. “However would I know that Blaine?” he asked.

“Make an educated guess.”

Wes sighed heavily. “Well, I did take that college psychology course last summer.” He contemplated for a few moments. “You’re taking charge of your sexuality, which is exceptionally important for you, because you’ve had your sexuality has been used against you in the past.”

Blaine heard this and nodded. It was an answer he could accept for himself. 

Of course, Wes couldn’t just leave it there. “But... you’re an affable guy… we’ve talked about the future, and how you want to get married… and well… it makes me think that perhaps the same thing that inspired you to take charge of your sexuality also makes hesitant to go after everything you want. Which is something considerably more public and more emotionally involved, and thus more risky.” 

It was like being dosed with a bucket of lukewarm water, shocking and uncomfortable. 

“You’re angry with me aren’t you? You have an angry face on. I would like to remind you that you asked.”

“I’m not angry at you, Wes,” Blaine said curtly. 

“That was an angry voice,” Wes said.

“I’m not angry!” Blaine shouted, which didn’t exactly prove his case. He hopped up to his feet and started pacing. “I’m just processing you’re answer.”

“I would like to add that just because I said it doesn’t mean it ‘s accurate.”

“But you wouldn’t say it unless you thought it was true. I know you, Wes.”

“You do,” Wes said, and that answer enough. “And I think the fact you are this worked up about this, that it might be a little more accurate than you like.” 

“Please stopped piling it on,” Blaine said.

Wes made a zipping his lips gesture, but he continued to watch Blaine with careful eyes like he was an experiment to be observed. 

“I’m not mad at you,” Blaine said, heading to the door, “But I need to think.”

…

Blaine had paced all the floors of the dormitory, until an idea of a solution came up for his current stress. He could call Kurt. Kurt was, after all, the one who brought it up, and would understand better than Wes, being in the same situation as him. And, you know, having Kurt over was always pretty great for… other reasons. 

He rummaged his cell phone out of his satchel, clicked through the phonebook, and dialed Kurt. The phone rang through a few times before it was picked up.

“Hey,” Kurt said, sounding a little hesitant. Blaine could hear voices in the background. 

“Kurt, can you come over tonight?” Blaine asked quickly, no context given.

“I can’t. I’m hanging out with my friends.”

He wasn’t exactly sure why it felt like a sledgehammer to the chest, but it did. Their impromptu plans had always worked out so seamlessly before. This was the first time Kurt had said no. That he couldn’t come. 

And it shouldn’t’ve bothered Blaine. It wasn’t a personal rejection. He could clearly hear over the phone line that Kurt was indeed with other people. He had his own life. Blaine had forgotten how little he really factored into it. 

“Of course,” he managed to say, not entirely sure if his voice was off or not. If the latter, hopefully it was mistaken for the reception. “No matter.”

“Hey –“ Kurt started, but Blaine didn’t let him finish.

“Another time then.” He hung up quickly. 

It wasn’t Kurt. It was nothing Kurt did. It wasn’t Wes, either. And it was this one thing that he could indulge himself him in.

He scrolled quickly through the phonebook, looking for another contact. Another touchstone. Someone who would be available and willing and so thoroughly disconnected and unlike the companionship he had with Kurt. Kurt was a package deal. It’s why he liked him so much. But he couldn’t, not now. Not when it ended with him hurting, even though no one had really slighted him.

He found a number. He typed a quick message. A minute later he got a response. He had plans tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

He was out with his girls again. He had time to make up for lost time after all. Tina and Mercedes were on either side of him, a storm of gossip going between. He was quiet but content. 

“Do they go everywhere in their uniform?”

That drew Kurt out of his reverie.

“Who’re we talking about?” he asked quickly.

“The Warblers. Look!” Tina pointed across the mall. A large gangle of Dalton students were wall towards them down the opposite side. 

“Don’t point,” Kurt said, grappling to try and bring Tina’s arm down, but too distracted by scanning the group for Blaine to even make contact. There indeed was Blaine, hair gelled into a part, all dapper in his neatly worn uniform. 

Blaine look their way. What should Kurt do – wave, nod, wink? No, the girls were right there. They had never interacted in public before. The two’s eyes connected. Did Blaine smile then – something friendly and not remotely smirk-like. Perhaps.

“I’m not a single woman. I’m not a single woman,” Tina was chanting to herself. 

“Well, I’m am,” Mercedes said. “And Kurt – well, single man.”

“No, no, no – we’re not going to accost our glee rivals in the mall for dates. For one – Rachel would never hear of it.”

“At least let us fantasize, Kurt.”

“You have a boyfriend, Tina!” Kurt said, scandalized.

“I also happen to have an active imagination,” Tina retorted.

“More than I needed to know.” 

“Come on, Kurt, you can’t say, at least one of those preppy boys hasn’t starred in a certain kind of fantasy—”

“Tina!”

“They have mine.”

“Mine too,” added Mercedes. 

“You two are lecherous,” Kurt said, though he laughed to follow it up. 

“Well,” said Tina, “While you were complaining, those boys got halfway across the mall.” 

“You. Have. A. Boyfriend,” Kurt said for the last time, emphasizing each word. Both of them laughed. Okay, they were just trying to get a rise out of him now. 

Later, they were in the woman’s department at Macy’s. Tina and Mercedes outnumbered him, but he sometimes found some good pieces in the woman’s section. 

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Blaine. 

“So I see you’re in the mall.”

Kurt typed back. “Shopping with my friends in Macy’s and way too close to the bra section for my comfort.”

Ten minutes passed as he helped Tina and Mercedes pick out colors that were complimentary to their skin tones. Of course, Tina was still all goth, so it was mostly him trying to   
unsuccessfully introduce more color into her wardrobe. The two disappeared into the lady’s dressing room and Kurt waited outside for them.

“There you are.” 

Kurt jerked his head to see Blaine approaching. He tensed. How long have the girls been in the changing rooms and how much longer would they be there still?

“What’re you doing here?” Kurt said, trying not to sound rude.

“I found the bras and then I found you,” Blaine said. 

Kurt stared at him for a minute. The way Blaine had just spoken, he hadn’t sounded so assured as he usually did. “Let’s talk over there,” Kurt said roughly, ‘over there’ being a vague term for away from the entrance of the dressing rooms. He led Blaine around the corner and behind the jean rack. 

Blaine was quite clear about what was going on. He had a small smile on his face, but didn’t look particularly happy. “Still your secret?” he asked.

“It would be too complicated to explain.”

Blaine nodded and said no more for the moment.

“Do you wear your uniforms everywhere?” Kurt asked quickly.

“Oh,” Blaine said, tugging at his jacket. “Well, we were performing at a nursing home down this way… and we always wear the uniform for performances. And we thought we’d have   
some fun before we went back to campus.”

“Are you?”

“Are I what?”

“Having fun.”

“It’s been okay,” Blaine said, and then in a more genuine tone, “I’m glad to see you.”

Kurt tried to bite back a smile. Yep, Blaine still had that type of affect on him. “Me too… you seemed… odd… on the phone the other night, like, god, a week ago? Was everything alright?”

“Everything worked out,” Blaine said, and again he seemed much less fine and smooth-surfaced and Blaine-like, but so much more human.

Kurt wasn’t sure what inspired the need that filled up his chest. It could have been just a desperate thing, wanting to make it up to Blaine, his last absence, or more selfish, to make sure to close any gaps between them. Or it could have been just want, and that want being for Blaine, to see him longer today, and this being the only way he knew it ask how and make it happen. 

“If you’re still in town this evening… my dad’s going out on a date at six… so if you want to come over to my house after then…?”

Blaine’s expression changed, and it was nice for Kurt to see something more akin to the Blaine he knew so well. “I can make something work.”

Kurt quick gave Blaine his address, and brief explanation of the area his house was. Blaine assured him he could find it. He hear Mercedes voice calling his name. 

“I have to go,” Kurt said. Blaine heard her as well, understood, and nodded tight-lipped.

Kurt quickly rounded the corner and almost ran straight into Mercedes. “Woah, boy, were you been?”

“Sorry, I thought I caught whiff of that sale.”

Tina joined them a moment later. “You can’t lie to me, Kurt. I saw you talking to that Dalton boy. 

“Really?” Mercedes nudged Kurt’s side with her elbow, smirking. 

“They were totally flirting,” Tina said. “I didn’t hear them, but I could tell.” 

“No we weren’t. Stop it,” Kurt said, knowing his face was turning red. 

“Kurt, did you give him your number?” Mercedes asked.

“No. Of course not.” It was actually true. Blaine had his number from a long time ago. “Do you guys even remember the Jesse St. James fiasco?”

“Come on, Kurt, the Warblers seemed nice and not at all evil at sectionals,” Mercedes said.

Tina added on. “Do it for us, Kurt. Do it for the two ladies with you who are desperate for some prep boy.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Kurt said. “He just got separated from his friends and asked me if I knew which way back to the main part of the mall.”

Tina and Mercedes gave him skeptical looks. 

“He was flirting. You just didn’t even realize.” Well, at least they had swallowed his lie. For now.

…

“Just so you know,” read a new text from Blaine. “One of your friends hunted me down in the food court and gave me your number.”

“Which one?”

“She had streaks in her hair.”

Tina. “I knew it didn’t take that long to get a smoothie.”

…

“So this is what Kurt Hummel’s room looks like,” Blaine said, hands in his pockets and tie undone. He was rocking back on his heels and observing.

“It was completely different a few months ago,” Kurt said. He felt self-conscious, with Blaine in and absorbing his bedroom. It was surprisingly personal. 

“What happened?”

“We moved.”

“Ah, so it’s a completely different room.”

“And what’s a better excuse to redecorate?” Kurt bantered back, sinking a little more into ease.

“Exactly,” Blaine said, accompanied by charming chuckle.

Kurt had a lot of doubts and worries about continuing this particular relationship with Blaine, but it was moments like these – moments were they seemed to fit together so easily and   
seamlessly – that he thought it was worth something. That it could be something more, despite Santana’s warnings otherwise. 

“So…,” Blaine said, raising an eyebrow. 

“So ,” Kurt repeated. Of course, this meeting had been arranged with a specific purpose. 

Kurt approached Blaine. It was his room, his house, his town and he felt a certain amount of control in his exchange he hadn’t before. Maybe it was short-lived and superficial. He didn’t know.

He cupped Blaine’s cheek and led him into a gentle kiss. It always surprised him that he was taller than Blaine. The boy always seemed larger than life – not someone Kurt could believe he had met and was in his life. 

Blaine didn’t push anything, but let Kurt lead the kiss – soft and simple. He stepped closer though, and putting his hands, just resting, on Kurt’s waist. They were touching from lips to knees. Kurt sighed into the kiss. 

“I love kissing you,” Blaine whispered. 

Kurt’s heart twisted and pounded in his chest, because while that was quite amazing to hear, it was still one word away from what he really wanted. 

“Come on,” Kurt hissed back, tugging at the middle of Blaine’s shirt and dragging him willingly over to the bed. He wanted Blaine to love more of him, all of him. 

Kneeling on the bed, they began shirking clothes between kisses and wandering hands. Blaine’s clothes – his jacket, his tie, his shirt – went first, because Kurt wasn’t hesitating to tug them away. Kurt’s came next, his cardigan, his shirt, his undershirt, Blaine watching him as he stripped. 

“Christ,” Blaine said, worried. He skimmed a hand over a yellowing bruise on Kurt’s side. “What happened?”

Kurt looked down and at it what Blaine was indicating. Just a bruise, this one particularly bad. They weren’t regular, but they weren’t irregular either. This one was on the mend, didn’t really hurt to the touch anymore. He had forgotten about it.

“I told you have a bully.”

“I didn’t realize it was this bad. I mean, I knew it was bad, but not in this way.”

“In what way did you not realize? I thought I made it pretty explicit,” Kurt snapped. He gulped and looked down. “Sorry, I get kinda bitchy when I’m defensive.”

“It’s okay,” Blaine said, voice soft and unaffected. He drifted his fingers lightly across Kurt’s bruise one more time and Kurt didn’t move away. “We all have own walls for good reasons.”

“What happened to you?” Kurt asked, because he knew something had to have to get that vulnerable voice, that true statement, and those eyes that were staring at the bruise but also   
beyond it, to what it symbolized. 

“I was,” Blaine said, “you know that term people use … gay bashed.”

It was like he just swallowed something heavy. “Oh.”

“It was my first year of high school, not at Dalton, and I was just out… and I asked the only other gay guy in the school – a senior – to go with me. I kinda had a crush on him, one of those impossible crushes where you’re more in love with the idea of the person than the actual person.”

“Been there,” Kurt said.

Blaine cleared his throat and wasn’t making eye contact. Kurt thought for a moment Blaine wouldn’t continue, that he would retreat back, but then he started again.

“We went as friends. He’d never been to one of the school dances with a proper date, sexual orientation-wise. I think he liked the idea of making it a kind of ‘fuck you’ his senior year. And the flattery of a kid admiring him.” Blaine throat flexed, jaw tensed. “Afterwards, when we were waiting for his dad to pick us up… these three guys, well, you know.” He shrugged and went silent. 

“Blaine,” Kurt gasped. Something cold and wet was rolling down his face. “I hate that that happened to you.” He took a heavy breath. “You don’t deserve it.”

“Does anyone?” Blaine asked vacantly, lost elsewhere.

“But especially you. You don’t deserve it.”

Blaine shrugged again, with less energy this time. He looked up and his eyes were miraculously dry. “Want to know the real kicker?” he said, sardonically. “That guy I went to the dance with, the one I was bashed with. I never saw him again after that night. He was in the hospital, then his parents pulled out of school, and I sent him a few texts, a few emails… he never responded.”

“Blaine –,” Kurt said again, but with little to follow it up. Anything he could think to say wouldn’t be comforting surely. Blaine knew this was horrible, which was Kurt’s first reaction, and knew surely it was unfair. Kurt could surmise how Blaine interrupted these actions: rejection, blame, hate. Things he, with his smile, charms, and politeness, went out of way to avoid.

It made Kurt think of Blaine’s walls, and whether the Blaine he had fallen for was just the façade. But no, for the Blaine that sat now on his bed, shirtless and despondent, no once of his usual charisma –the lines where his pieces were glued back to together over-kilter showing – Kurt loved him still. Maybe even more, for Blaine needed it more than Kurt had known before. 

And yet, Kurt didn’t hold illusions of fixing him. He was too half-shattered himself. He had been using Blaine, after all, to try and heal himself. A victim of slowing increasing bullying from a bully he was mostly sure was acting out his repressed sexuality. 

“What a pair we make,” Kurt said, nothing romantic about it. 

Blaine ducked his head down onto Kurt’s shoulder, breathing deeply. He stayed there. Kurt could do this. 

He lightly gripped Blaine’s arms. “It’s okay,” he said, even though nothing about this was.


	6. Chapter 6

“Sorry about this,” Blaine said for maybe the fifth time.

“It’s fine,” Kurt said, taking a turn onto the thoroughfare. “Really, I   
don’t mind.”

“I can’t believe Thad forgot me,” Blaine said, another repeat. Thad, another Warbler, Kurt learned, was staying back in Lima later than the other Warblers to visit his girlfriend after their nursing home visit. He said he would give Blaine a ride back to Dalton after Blaine had made plans with Kurt at the mall. Thad got in a fight with his girlfriend and had thusly, abandoned Blaine.

“You know, it was just the one time you didn’t have to drive out to me…” 

“Blaine, it’s really okay,” Kurt said. And he wasn’t all that put out, getting to spend this extra time with Blaine. “And it’s better than the alternative.”

“Me being late for curfew?” Blaine asked, confused.

“My dad coming to find a strange boy alone in his house with his son,” Kurt retorted. Which, he could honestly say that they hadn’t been up to something that night. They had planned to have sex, but it didn’t happen after Blaine’s breakdown. Kurt wondered if that was part of what was repeatedly apologizing for. 

“I thought you said he was okay with you being gay?”

“He is. But finding out your only child is having sex is a different matter completely.”

Blaine chuckled. “I suppose so.”

They drove on for a little while longer. Kurt kept flicking his eyes over to see Blaine, as much as he could while having to focus on the road, even it was fairly clear at this time in the evening, well past rush hour. 

Blaine was looking out the window, corner of his forehead resting on the edge of its plastic frame. Kurt knew, though, looking out the window on a drive was never just looking out a window on a drive. 

He was about to ask – though Kurt could guess Blaine’s head probably was in the topic they discussed earlier that very same night – when Blaine tugged himself out of his reverie. 

“Can I turn on some music?” Blaine asked. 

“Sure,” Kurt said, glancing sideways at Blaine twice in quick successful, the boy’s demeanor having switched swiftly. He couldn’t believe this new cheery disposition was all that genuine. 

Blaine began fiddling with the radio dials. Eventually he landed a familiar song, and started singing, loudly, along.

“You make me feel like I’m living a teenage dream!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kurt shouted over Blaine’s singing, but not helping the smile forming on his face. By itself, Kurt didn’t care much for pretty much any Katy Perry single, but when it was Blaine singing it… well, it turned into something else. Especially this song. The first song that had ever been sung to Kurt. 

Blaine leaned over his armrest and turned up the volume. “Get your heart racing in my skintight jeans. Be your teenage dream tonight! – sing with me Kurt!”

Kurt acquiesced and began singing along, not nearly as enthusiastic as Blaine, if that could be matched. Blaine was dancing like a goofball in his seat, and this was real. Kurt thought he might be getting a taste for distinguishing Blaine’s facades and realities. But there was something so perfectly unaltered in his singing right now. The first time Kurt witness Blaine perform this song, it had been exactly that, a performance. Not purposefully deceitful, there was an act in performing. And acting, by its very definition, isn’t true. 

This was singing, like a kid at a campfire, not caring if you hit all the right notes. It was just fun and pure and joyful. 

When the song ended there were smiles plastered on both of their faces, the kind of smile that made your face hurt. Blaine turned down the radio until it was only a dull hum in the background. 

“Thank you,” Blaine said, voice deep and sincere. “For tonight., and everything.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, now, for the first time during the drive, looking resolutely out the windshield. “I’d do anything for you.”

“You’re awesome,” Blaine said in a tone that was appreciative, but clearly missing the gravity of what Kurt really meant.

“Thanks,” was all Kurt said in return. He didn’t think he could dare say more. “We’ll be there soon.” 

…

“Did you always know?” Blaine asked as they were pulling into the parking lot. Of all the conversations they had had, this wasn’t one of them.

“I always knew I was different. And I wasn’t very old when people started using ‘gay’ and ‘fag’ to insult me. I figured out exactly what that difference pretty quick.” He pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. “And you?”

“I knew I never liked girls in that way. It took until middle school whenever other guy were liking girls that way for me to get the full implications,” Blaine said, then, “I told my brother first.”

“I told my friend Mercedes first, then my dad,” Kurt said, retching up the past, but it didn’t seem to be retching as deeply and intensely as Blaine. But coming out, for Kurt, to Mercedes and his dad, had been one of the best decisions of his life. 

“My parents didn’t take it very well,” Blaine said, looking at Kurt. “It’s not like they hate me for being gay, but they would strongly prefer if I wasn’t… It sure feels like hate though.”

“Blaine, I—,” and what did Kurt want to say to fix this. It’s okay, I love you? 

Blaine shook his head to dispel his heavy thoughts. “I’m being such a bummer tonight.”

“We’ve all have those nights,” Kurt said. “You helped me out for mine.”

Blaine smiled, and it wasn’t exactly happy, but Kurt wouldn’t call it a lie either. 

“Walk me in?” Blaine asked in the gentlest of voice. A voice Kurt didn’t think he could ever refuse.

“Sure,” Kurt said, and if the way he said it sounded a little or a lot lovelorn, he wasn’t getting too chocked up about it. 

They walked tightly side-by-side. The back of their hands brushed accidently. For a second, Blaine grabbed Kurt’s fingers, and Kurt thought that maybe they would hold hands. Instead he just gripped them tight, said, “It’s getting cold and neither of us have gloves,” and then let go.

As they approached the dorm building, Blaine ran ahead and opened the door for him. “After you, good sir,” he said, a joke.

“I could get used to this,” Kurt said back as he passed inside. They went up two flights of stairs. Kurt honestly thought there was something more between them. That was what he got for reading into things. It came crashing down not a moment later. 

They were standing outside the door to his specific room, sharing a prolonged goodbye. A goodbye that was obviously delayed by both of them on purpose. A goodbye where neither wanted the other to live. 

Then some student who seemed half-drunk – not all that odd for teenagers in a dormitory, no matter all the finesse of the school – stumbled down the hallway. He spotted them and swerved over their way. 

“Blaine!” he said, too loudly. Yes, definitely drunk. He gave Blaine a sloppy sort of over-enthusiastic hug. Blaine shot Kurt a bemused look. 

“Dude,” the drunk guy said, “I heard about you and Logan last week, if you know what I mean.” He tried to wink, but instead just blinked really enthusiastically. “I thought you were out of the game.”

This whole conversation made Kurt uneasy. It made Blaine uneasy too, whose face had turned from bemused to uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, patting the drunk guy on the arm, desperately trying to end the conversation.

The drunk guy then noticed Kurt for the first time. His eyes bulged. “Oh shit, was I not supposed to say anything? Are you guys –” he made a hand gesture that Kurt couldn’t interpret, “together?”

“We’re not dating,” Blaine said fast. 

“We’re not,” Kurt said in a depressed confirmation. 

“Oh, right,” the drunk guy said. “Right on. Have fun.” He tried to wink again. He started to amble off. “Like with Logan,” he said, maybe it was supposed to be teasing, maybe it was supposed to be muttered, but either way it made Kurt’s heart drop, suspicions confirmed. 

It must’ve shown. 

“You okay?” Blaine said. Kurt didn’t answer right away. “I mean, we were never exclusive.”

“I know,” said Kurt quickly, not really looking at Blaine. “I know. I just hadn’t thought about it before.”

“I won’t mind if you… you know… but I suppose in your circumstances you don’t have the option.” He was rambling and scratching at the back of his neck. 

He didn’t want to hear anymore. “I’ve got to get home,” Kurt said, a dismissal.

“Of course,” Blaine said. He reached out and squeezed Kurt’s shoulder. “Um, drive safe.”

“Yeah,” Kurt said, and left. 

He got behind the wheel of his car and his hands were shaking. He started on his way home. “Of course,” Kurt spoke out to the emptiness of his car. He needed to get out his feelings, but who could he say them to other than himself?

“Of course he’s seeing other people. How stupid I must be to think I was special. Yeah, we’re friends too.” Kurt paused to sniffle. “But he doesn’t,” a shuddering breathe. “He doesn’t love me like I love him. He doesn’t want me like I want him. And I need to get over it.” 

He swallowed hard, and kept on driving.


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine shut the door of his dorm after Kurt fled down the hallway and banged his forehead against it. “Shit,” he swore. His room was roommate-less. Jeff was in Nick’s room. He was almost always in Nick’s room, except for changing clothes and sleeping. It’s not that he didn’t like Blaine, it’s just that he really liked Nick. There might have been something more going on their then an epic best friendship, but Blaine didn’t speculate too much. 

He lifted his head an inch and let it thwack back down on the door. Kurt was upset with him. He didn’t like that. Kurt was hurt. Blaine liked that even less. 

Blaine plopped down on his bed feeling utterly miserable. He tried to text Kurt. He wrote about ten different messages. From profuse apologies to elaborate excuses to ‘text me you get   
home safe’ to entirely different confessions that started with “I L –“ but got deleted as soon as they got that far. 

By the end of the night, he sent nothing.

…

Kurt hadn’t contacted Blaine in over two days and didn’t plan on ending this communication fast anytime soon. Blaine hadn’t contacted him. Kurt didn’t think it boded well between the two of them, but that sting seemed to hurt less than the one where Blaine was screwing around with other people. 

That night, his dad steered him to the table and sat down across from him. “I need to have a talk with you,” Burt said. “The talk.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows and dread filled his stomach. “The talk?” he repeated. There was only one talk that was ever referred to as ‘the talk’.

“Remember back when I was asking about where you were going, and I thought maybe you had been seeing someone?” 

Kurt nodded and swallowed hard. Had he been found out?

“And it wasn’t that.” Kurt held back his sigh of relief. “But I figured,” his dad continued. “It’s going to be that one day, and, well…” Burt slid a small pile of pamphlets across the table. He   
glanced briefly at the covers, their titles and illustrations. They were about safe sex, and gay sex, and all that stuff that hadn’t known not that long ago. And that Blaine had taught him through hands-on lessons.

“That it?” Kurt asked, voice high. Because this could get really awkward really fast, and he didn’t know what his dad could say to him that he didn’t already know. 

“You’re not getting away that easy,” Burt said. His dad had a lot to eerily accurate things to say about sex and feelings. Kurt just nodded at the appropriate parts, because he was sure if he opened his mouth he wouldn’t be able to construct any decent enough responses like this was something new he was learning. Like wasn’t in the midst of learning this in his own tumultuous relationship. 

“It does something,” Burt said, sounding like he was rounding up to a conclusion. “To your heart and self esteem… even if you think it’s just having funny.” Kurt nodded again, looking his dad in the eye. Everything his dad saying hurt for its accuracy. Kurt felt like his own soul was twisting inside him, contorting painfully, because perhaps if he had heard these words of caution and care earlier… or perhaps he would have made the same mistakes anyway, just more well-informed ones.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have sex ever… just that when you’re ready, I want you to use it as a way to connect to another person. Don’t throw yourself around like you don’t matter. ‘Cause you matter, Kurt.”

Kurt chocked on a sob, then another, then another, until he was absolutely bawling. Eyes squeezed shut and hands cupped over his mouth bawling. 

“Kurt,” Burt said, very concerned, and a touch confused. This wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. “Are you okay?” Kurt felt his father move close to him, scooting around the table to sit next to him. 

Kurt managed to get control enough of his hitching breath to say, “I’m fine.” He then shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“Kurt …,” Burt said again, with nothing more. He settled a hand on Kurt’s shoulder; it’s was a comforting presence. 

Kurt took a few long, shaky breaths, trying to calm himself. “I… I have a friend,” Kurt said. It was horribly cliché and so, so see through, but it was the only way he could think of explaining what he was going through to his father. He had never planned too, but now it made so much sense now. He might be the person Kurt would be the most ashamed to tell, but he was also the person Kurt was sure he could trust most with it. 

“You have a friend?” Burt repeated, obviously skeptical, but trying to be nice. Playing along. 

“My friend was very lonely, and sad, and he went to spy on a rival glee club. And when he did, my friend met someone.”

Burt was silent. He was letting Kurt talk. 

“And that someone was very charming and handsome, and he started flirting with my friend. And because he was so lonely and sad…” Kurt paused for a gulp, and stared down at the table. He couldn’t look at his father for this confession. “And because no one had ever treated me-my friend like that ever before… my friend slept with him.”

Burt perhaps stiffened then, but again, he didn’t interrupted.

Kurt raised a hand and wiped the tears off one cheek, which was silly, because every time he blinked a few more would fall. “And my friend keeps sleeping with this someone. They’re not dating, just hooking up. And this someone isn’t horrible nor does he treat my friend bad or anything. He actually is pretty great. Sweet, and amazing, and they’ve become friends, even.”

He was talking faster, his voice raising in pitch. Now that it was pouring out, it was all pouring out. “And – and, my friend… feels a lot for this person he’s hooking up with. Maybe not love, maybe that’s naïve –” That’s a revelation to Kurt even as he said it. He termed everything he felt for Blaine as love, but could love be so one-sided? Could it be feelings and not actions? He felt for Blaine, surely. More than a friend and more than an infatuation. But could it be love just yet? 

“But this someone he’s hooking up with… doesn’t feel the same way. He’s even seeing other people. And… It’s not what my friend wants. He wants romance. He wants a relationship. He wants love… But he doesn’t know how to get those things. So he does this instead, hooks up with a guy, and while it makes him feel good in the moment, every other moment, it makes him feel like a piece of crap.”

Kurt gulped again and dared look up at his father. His tears were done, though his cheeks still wet. 

Burt was sitting there next to him, hand still on his shoulder, letting it all sink in. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, the first thing I want to say is that I wished your friend had waited until he was thirty.” 

Kurt laughed and sniffled at the same time. 

“Mostly I’m concerned about your friend getting hurt, and he sure seems like he is getting hurt right now.” Burt squeezed Kurt’s shoulder briefly as a sign of just being there. 

Kurt nodded roughly.

“The thing is, when you’re young, you have a hard time of seeing things in the long term. All you can feel and think is now. And I guess if you’re feeling like your friend felt, that loneliness can seem like it will last forever. But it won’t, Kurt, I can promise you that. You are too good a person too be lonely for long. It’s just this town. It’s no good for you.”

If he hadn’t already cried himself out, he thought he would have cried right then, hearing this commendation so sure. Somewhere his dad had traded out talking about his friend to talking directly to him. The cheap façade gone. Neither of them believed it anyway, but it still changed the pitch of the conversation. Taken away the gossamer thin layer that had separated the conversation from reality.

“You’re much too young to be giving up on what you want for what you can get,” Burt said. 

Kurt shuddered. He was emotionally exhausted, and mildly surprised that having this particular conversation with his father wasn’t as mortifying as he thought it would be. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Kurt admitted. “How can something – someone bring you so high and drag you so low. And he doesn’t even know.” 

“If he doesn’t know, he doesn’t deserve you,” Burt said. 

Kurt knotted his fingers in his lap. He didn’t feel like he deserved very much at the moment. 

“What should I do?” Kurt asked.

“I wish I could tell you what to do. As your dad, I really wish I could tell you what to do, but I think this is a time you have to make the decisions yourself.”

That was a very generous answer, but it would be a lot easier if some course of action was dictated to him rather than left up to his choice. He knew it was going to suck, one way or   
another, but he knew what he had to do.

He had to stop seeing Blaine. It would be like pulling a knife from a wound. It would hurt and it would bleed, but eventually, it would start to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some text taken from an actual episode of Glee (the "you matter" speech).


	8. Chapter 8

“I hate to ask, but you’ve been moping around since we went to Lima. You and Kurt have a fight?” That was the ever caring Wes addressing Blaine. Blaine wasn’t sure why he always studied with Wes if this was how he was talked to, but then again, most of the other boys wouldn’t have been intuitive enough to ask.

“He’s upset with me,” Blaine said. “When he dropped me back here last Sunday – well, Thad was a drunk asshole and let it drop that I had fooled around with Logan two weeks ago.”

“But aren’t you two – you and Kurt –” He had finally stopped referring to Kurt as the spy. “Just casual sexing it up. Like no strings, non-exclusive, etcetera and so forth?”

“The thing is,” Blaine said, straightening his tie thought it was already straight, “He said he was alright, but he was obviously not alright.”

“Ah, the worse kind of upset,” Wes said knowledgeably. “When someone thinks they’re not allowed to be upset, but they are anyway, and nothing can get resolved because no one will admit anything…What?” 

“You should be a therapist,” Blaine said. 

“I’m not nice enough to be a therapist,” Wes said.

“You’re nice to me.”

“I’m only nice to you because I need your singing talents.”

Blaine smirked. He knew it wasn’t true. Wes didn’t suffer anyone lightly, talented singer or no. It was actually a relief to know that Wes hanging out with him meant he liked Blaine, flaws and all, and not just because he could get something out of him.

“Though if I was a therapist,” Wes theorized, “You would have to pay me to have all these deep conversations about your personal life, so maybe that isn’t such a bad idea.”

Blaine threw a balled up piece of paper at Wes’ head. “You suck.”

“Not true. I’m the best person you know.”

Blaine laughed then, full and hardy. It was the lightest he felt in days. 

“Why are you laughing?” Wes deadpanned. “I’m completely serious.”

Blaine sighed heavy. “I still don’t know what to do about Kurt.”

“You’re going to fix this one yourself, buddy,” Wes said. “One suggestion, starting with an apology is always good. Even if you technically did nothing wrong. Feelings and reason are two different arenas.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

…

His cell phone rang and Blaine snatched it off the desk. The screen said it was Kurt who was calling. This excited and uneased Blaine. He wanted to talk to Kurt, after all. He had been rehearsing apologies all day since he talked to Wes, but the last time Kurt called instead of texted was when Kurt had a breakdown.

It rang again, snapped Blaine back to the present. He quickly picked up, and said “Hey” really out of breathe   
even though he was sitting on his bed. 

“I need to talk to you,” Kurt said, and there was something in Kurt’s voice – the utter sadness of it – that struck Blaine silent. Kept him from saying, ‘I need to talk to you too.’ And he’d regret that later, that he didn’t get his say.

He heard Kurt sigh over the phone. “I wish I could do this in person, but I don’t think I could.” He didn’t expand on this. It was one of those things that would keep Blaine wondering later. “We can’t keep doing what we’re doing… the casual sex.”

“Kurt, is this about what happened last Sunday… what that drunk guy said?” He had lots of explanations, and excuses, and even an apology that Wes had suggested, but they were all rushing around in a whirlwind too fast for him to put them together before Kurt started talking again.

“That’s part of it, but it more just made me realize what I wanted. And it’s not what we’re doing. It’s never been that. It was a mistake to begin with on my part.”

“Oh,” Blaine said, so quiet it wasn’t even meant to be said. Just a gut reaction of devastation. But he had his phone pressed so tight against his ear, the the microphone must’ve picked it up, and then, Kurt, so diligent, heard. 

“Please know,” Kurt said, his voice wobbly, “It’s not you. It’s really not. It’s me. And, um –,” Kurt cut off. He didn’t sound emotionally stable himself. “I don’t know what else to say.”

Blaine had things to say. Thing like “why?” and “can we still be friends?” and “I’m sorry this has to end” and “I never meant to hurt you, but I’m not sure how I did” and “I’m sorry for anything you need me to be sorry for.”

He didn’t say any of these things, however, because Blaine knew not to be a burden, or latch onto people who didn’t want to be latched onto. That was why he worked so well with hooking up, no strings. People couldn’t expect too much from him, and he couldn’t expect too much from others. Less risky, like Wes had said once. 

So what he did say was, “You don’t need to say anything more. We don’t owe each other anything.” That second sentence was a complete lie. Yeah, their sexual relationship had no expectations, but their personal relationship, their friendship, they had laid a lot of themselves out for each other, open and vulnerable. Those things had silent attachments and responsibilities. 

“Right, right,” Kurt agreed over the line. “Not   
anything.”

Blaine’s grip on his phone was so tight his fingers   
ached. 

“So,” Blaine said. What should he say now? See you around? Not likely. “Have a nice life,” he said, meaning it completely non-ironically. 

“Right,” Kurt said, blandly, “You too.”

And the conversation was over, but it still spinned around in his head. ‘Mistake’ was a particularly loud in his memory. The ‘not anything.’ Even with Kurt’s promises of it not being Blaine, of course it was. Just like his Sadie Hawkins date – he shared something emotionally devastating and then, poof, never talked to him again. It was surprising Wes was still around for him. 

God, why was he such a fuck up. He never even got   
in that apology. 

…

Kurt got to glee early. He was sitting there. Santana came along at some point. Sat next to him. 

“You broke it off with him, didn’t you?” she asked. It was the first time they talked since that meaningful conversation about Blaine in the first place, back around Sectionals. 

“How could you tell?” Kurt said.

“You look horrible,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said, but really couldn’t put umph of offense into it. 

“Like wrecked. Like someone tore your spirit out and   
stomped all over it.”

“Thanks, Santana, really.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, though as if trying to sound as casual as she could, “If that means anything. I don’t actually despise you, and I get that relationship problems for you is completely different like for Berry or Fabray. You know, that it’s different… in this town.”

She didn’t once look at him. Just sat, arms crossed, legs crossed head tilted in that superior manner of hers. 

Kurt could be a snarky, catty bitch to people. More last year than this one, but the claws and ice still came out at times rather viciously. He knew it was a defense mechanism. He was starting to get that it was one of Santana’s as well.

“Have you ever told Brittany?” Kurt asked. “How you feel about her?”

He watched Santana. He saw her throat move in what might have been a nervous swallow. “No. Why risk it? You tell Blaine?”

“No,” Kurt said. “Why risk it?”

Santana laughed, derisive, towards herself. “Because if we risk it we might get what we want.”

“I won’t,” Kurt said. “I know Blaine doesn’t want anything serious. He was pretty explicit about that when I found out that he was sleeping around with other people the same time as me.”

Santana made a face. “That must’ve stung.”

“More like being eviscerated,” Kurt said with a sour huff of a laugh. “You should’ve heard him when I called him to ‘break up’. We don’t owe each other anything, or something like that.” 

“That’s vicious,” Santana said. “I was rooting for you two. I thought if it worked out for even you, that I might have a chance in hell.”

Kurt wanted to laugh and wanted to cry, but he was tried of crying, so he just laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “You can’t say anything halfway nice to me without insulting me too.”

She shrugged, unaffected if not amused.

“That sad part is you’ve my biggest confidant in all of this, besides my dad.”

“I do what I can,” she said, then, shocked, “Besides your dad? You told your dad?”

…

There was banging on Blaine’s dorm door. He had just sleepwalked through his classes, and had come back to his room and nose-dived into bed. He hadn’t slept well the night prior, but worse, he was miserable. Flat out miserable.

“What?” Blaine called out, but his face was stuffed into his pillow, so that sound was muffled and didn’t get heard. 

The knocking got louder and more persistent. 

Blaine turned his face so his mouth was free of his pillow. “What?” he called again.

Wes took that as permission to open his door and come on him. 

“Blaine,” he said, slightly perturbed. “Forgetting something?”

Blaine raised a beleaguered eyebrow, but didn’t otherwise move from where he was sprawled across his bed – a bed he had shared so many times with Kurt.

Wes clicked his tongue in irritation. “Warbler practice?”

“Shit,” Blaine swore. “Oh shit,” he pushed off his bed and looked at the clock on his desk. It was well half   
through their usual after-school practice time slot. 

“Don’t get up now,” Wes said, tossing down his bag onto the floor. “I ended up giving all the boys off today, considering we couldn’t do much without our lead soloist.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Blaine said. He sat up on the bed. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Wes raised an eyebrow, like ‘you think I didn’t think of that, bitch?’ Of course, Blaine’s phone was on silent, as he kept it during classes. 

“Blaine,” Wes said imploringly. He pulled out Blaine’s desk chair and sat down. “You never miss a chance to be in the spotlight. What’s wrong?”

“Kurt,” Blaine groaned.

“Still?”

“He called me yesterday, and, uh, we broke up.”

“But you guys weren’t together,” Wes said, almost as if he were talking to a stupid person.

“I know, but we broke off what we had.”

“Which was casual sex.”

“And more,” Blaine said, running his hands over his face, “A friendship.”

Wes scooted closer. “He said he didn’t want to be your friend anymore?”

“No, but… it’s like we’re going to manage to be friends after this.”

“But,” Wes said, “I thought the sex and the friendship were two separate things, like with every other guy you’ve slept with.”

“It never was just sex!” Blaine said aggressively. He was anguished. Torn up. He now understood why. “I took his virginity. And more than once we’ve planned to hook up and ended up crying on each other’s shoulders about our fucked up lives. It’s always been more complicated than just sex.”

Wes sat back in the chair, contented. “Good. I got you to admit it.”

Blaine scoffed, but he felt rather pathetic. “Why did you have to that to me? Play some mind games?”

“That wasn’t a mind game, that was me … provoking you into an epiphany.”

“Into what?” Blaine exploded with frustration. He stood and ran two rough hands through his gelled hair. “That sex with Kurt meant more than it did with the other guys? So what? That doesn’t change anything. Kurt still said that we had was a mistake. That he didn’t want to have continue what we are doing. And what we were doing is the only type of relationship I’m comfortable with.”

“Are you sure?” Wes was quietly from his seat.

“Yes,” Blaine said, rounding on him, “I pretty damn sure.” Though, to be honest, he really wasn’t sure of anything.

…

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do, so he got his phone and texted Kurt. “I’m sorry,” then promptly stuffed his phone under his pillow – afraid of any response or non-response. 

Kurt found the text about five minutes, just the two little words. He wasn’t sure how they were meant. He wanted to give them big meaning, prolific meaning, the full implications of sorry. But he didn’t know if it just meant, “I’m sorry we’re not hooking up anymore” or “I’m saying sorry in hope in hopes we might hook up some more.”

It didn’t sound like Blaine, those suppositions. He probably just meant “I’m sorry” with no manipulations attached. It would still not be the sorry Kurt needed.

He didn’t dare ask for an explanation because he doubted it’d be the one he wanted. And how could he ask without giving himself away. 

And if Blaine had anything else to say, Kurt was sure he could and would manage to say it without Kurt’s prompting. He didn’t respond.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt was spending a lot of nights at home. It wasn’t a bad thing. His dad had almost passed earlier this year. He should, and did, appreciate just being able to spend time around him. 

“You know,” Burt said, coming into the living room, – where Kurt was on the couch reading the newest issue of Vogue – “You’re not grounded. You can go out with your friends sometimes, as long as you’re telling me where you’re going, who you’re with, and when you’ll be back.”

Kurt smiled over his magazine. “If I didn’t totally deserve that, you’d be getting an earful right now about how I’m almost an adult and how you should trust me.”

His dad huffed in s sound that was an almost laughter. It was weird, being able to joke about his disastrous sexual relationship with his dad in passing. But their relationship had always been a little weird, and oddly close, even if they lived on different wavelengths, ever since he came out. 

Burt plopped down on the seat next to him and set an arm on the back of the couch, so it was behind Kurt’s back but not quit over his shoulders. “How are you?” he asked.

“Okay,” Kurt said at first. He pulled his legs underneath him. “Better,” he added. Not all better, but better than he had been. A marginal improvement, but an improvement. Blaine and everything he did with Blaine still weighed on him. However, the further he got from the break up, the more sure he was that it was the right decision, and how wrong it was – for him – to have fooled around with Blaine the way he did. How it wasn’t emotionally healthy for him. He was mending still.

“You’re a good kid,” his dad said gruffly, ruffling Kurt’s hair. 

Kurt shrugged away, a little embarrassed, but not unpleased. “I don’t know about that. I feel pretty stupid lately.”

“Most people feel stupid most of the time, so you’re in good company.”

“Gee, thanks,” Kurt scolded, amused. 

Burt pushed up off the couch. “I’ll make dinner.”

He left the room, Kurt was left thinking. He was still making paces, but he had come up with a better conclusion, of his tangled web of feelings for Blaine. It wasn’t that he was in love with Blaine or ever was. It was that he entirely would have fallen in love with Blaine if circumstances of their relationship had been different. And that was a bitter pill to swallow, an almost love. 

...

Wes banged his gavel on the desk even though everyone was already waiting patiently for him to start the meeting.

“As you all know,” Wes said, “Regionals is looming, and as of today, our daily after school practice times are increased by a half hour. And depending on progress, I might institute Saturday practices.” There were a few muffled groans around the room. No one like Saturday practices, for a number of reasons. 

David elbowed Wes lightly. 

Wes sighed and added, “Although Warbler David would like me to add that Saturday practices will only be under dire circumstances, given that we wouldn’t want to lose our voices and/or wear out all out energy.

“Now, I think we can all agree, of the songs we have been working on lately, “Raise Your Glass” with Blaine on lead is totally in. I think the second song is up to debate, and I will know open the floor to discussion.”

A series of hands popped into the air and Wes called on them in turn, and they all made their suggestions and debated the merits of each song choice. It quickly descended into chaos, or as much chaos as the Warblers descended into, which was not waiting their turn to be called on and talking over each other. 

Throughout all this, Blaine sat hunched in his chair. He listened, but not attentively. He didn’t know who was advocating what acappella version of what pop song, but the choices weren’t really all that different from each other. 

He stood, a decision made, and said, “I have a suggestion.” Because of the dramatics of it all, and because it was Blaine, they all quieted down to listen. 

“I think that our second song should be something that we don’t already have in our wheel house. Something more… emotional.”

“Are you suggesting we pick out a new arrangement for a new song this close to Regionals?” asked David, leaning forward from his place at the counsel table, like he couldn’t believe he had hear right. 

Blaine took a sigh, then said, “Yes.” They exploded, or, you know, everyone started talking about this out-of-precedent idea all at once.

Wes banged his gavel on the table, saying, “order, order.” Although his face was straight, he seemed to enjoy it way too much. Getting the room down to a dull hum of whispered voices, he said, “Let’s here Blaine out.” His tone suggested he wasn’t too pleased with Blaine’s idea, however. 

“Look, everyone,” Blaine said. “We tied in Sectionals. And while that means we didn’t lose, it also means we didn’t win. As such, we’re going up against some of the same competition, and we have to step up our game. So we need to take the best of us – our harmonies, our precision, our charm – and fuse it with some of the best New Directions has to offer, their passion and emotion.” The whispers had ended. Blaine thought he had at least some of them convinced. “As such, I am volunteering to persevere to get the new, emotional song ready to perform, and would give my lead on “Raise Your Glass” to Nick.”

The room exploded again. Someone giving up a solo they auditioned for was unheard of. Before he knew what being dragged outside of the commons by his sleeve, by Wes, who said through gritted teeth, “I need to talk to you outside for a moment.”

The door shut behind them. 

“Okay, I get that you’re going through a teenage angst time at the moment, and Kurt is   
going to be at Regionals, but seriously, do you need to cause me all this stress.”

“It’s a good idea.”

“It’s a good idea too close to Regionals.”

“Well, I just thought of it…”

“Uggh,” Wes said, which was more a sound than a word. He put down his hands from his hair and said, “Do you at least have an idea for this emotional song.”

“I was thinking “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keene.”

Wes stilled. “That’s a good sound,” he said, almost shocked to hear himself say it. 

“It is,” Blaine agreed with a nod.

“Imagine the harmonies,” Wes waxed on. “And how it would appeal to the older crowd, which the judges always are… I actually see no downside.”

Blaine couldn’t help but grin at his victory. Wes would be the hardest to win over, after all, as well as the most persuasive in getting Blaine’s dream into reality. 

“And giving Nick your lead on “Raise Your Glass”?” Wes questioned, though not harshly. 

“I really want to sing “Somewhere Only We Know.” And if I have to perfect a new song by Regionals, I can’t keep up the lead for “Raise Your Glass” as well. Nick was my understudy anyway, and he’s waited long enough for a lead. He can do it… plus, it helps shows the diversity of the group to the judges.”

“I don’t know if you believe half what you’re saying, or if you’re just saying it to persuade me.”

“And you’ll never know,” Blaine said. 

“Stop being a smartass, and let’s go inform the Warblers of our new plan.”

…

Mr. Schue wrote a single word on the whiteboard in sloppy, angled letters: Regionals. Santana looked at her watch and said. “Isn’t it a little early for us to be discussing Regionals?”

“It’s two weeks away,” Sam said.

“Exactly.”

Discussions, which were loud and almost violent, ensued. Kurt was checked out. He cared about Regionals, sure, and he wanted to get to Nationals, totally, but… Well, one, he had got a solo in Sectionals and because his name wasn’t Rachel Berry, it was highly doubtful he would get one again. Someone else deserving probably should, like Santana or Tina or Artie. And two – a two that Kurt was trying to minimize into a footnote but was actually making the main essay – Blaine would be there. And just thinking ahead, two weeks to that, was already stressing him out. 

Mercedes poked him in the arm. “You all in there, boy?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Kurt said, purposefully straightening himself in his seat. 

“Well, you’re not in this rabble like the rest of us, and that’s not you.”

“I think you should get a solo,” Kurt said, which was true, but also completely manipulative. 

“Damn straight,” she agreed, and then went back, passionately, into the main discussion as   
an advocate for herself. 

Santana caught up with Kurt after the disastrous practice, if it could even dared to be called practice. He latched onto his elbow as they both made their way through the empty hallway. 

“What?” Kurt asked of her. 

“So, Regionals.”

“Yes, and I believe you got a solo, didn’t you,” Kurt said. He thought that Santana got that solo because everyone short of Mercedes was too scared of her when Santana got into a rage that involved her yelling in Spanish.

“I still don’t know which is the better part: having a solo or Berry’s face when I got the solo and she didn’t.”

“You’re a strange person.”

She gave a ‘well, sure’ shrug. “But I’m not done talking about Regionals and you.”

“And me?”

“And your Warbler ex- boy toy.”

“I love how you word things so delicately,” Kurt said, laced with harsh sarcasm. He planned to try and ignore the issue, even if it would probably fail. 

“Well, obviously I’m not here just to drag up your garbage for your emotional pain. I’m here, god help me, to offer some help.”

“Help how?” Kurt asked, suspicious, and probably rightly so. For all he knew, Santana would be trying to hook him with some other gay guy she had discovered, and that’s not really want he wanted right now or ever. He didn’t trust Santana’s taste in men. She dated Puck, after all. 

“Look, you can trick yourself into thinking you’re ready and okay to see that person, but then you show up, and they’re there, and you’re not. Everything whams into like a hammer, and next thing you know, you’re crying in a public bathroom.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Are we talking about you or me?”

“Shut up,” she said, a little darkly. Kurt thought that answered his question. “I’m just trying   
to help you out. Seeing him is going to suck hard ass, period, and you best get ready. Because at least it won’t hit you like a hammer if you’re expecting it. You can’t be crying in a bathroom when we need you on stage. And, for fuck’s sake, I’m giving emotional advice for the good of the glee club. What has become of me?”

“You’ve become one of us,” Kurt said, teasing.

“No,” Santana said, letting go of him. “Never.”

… 

“Yes, Wes,” Blaine said as he slaved over his literature essay. He could just sense Wes standing in his open dorm doorway, though not yet knocking. 

Wes took a single step inside of the room. “I’ve been going over the “Somewhere Only We Know” lyrics over and over again, you know, for arrangements.”

“Of course. I’d expect nothing less than obsessive thoroughness from you.”

“I’ll sass with you later, Blaine, but right now I have a question.”

That made Blaine look up from his computer. “What’s up?”

“The song. Are you doing it because of Kurt or for Kurt. Because if it is because of Kurt, whatever, we all deal with our shit in different ways. But if it’s for him, I’m going to have to reiterate the whole it’s wasn’t just sex thing.”

Blaine didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was with, “I really have to write this paper, Wes.”


	10. Chapter 10

It turned out that nothing could dampen the elation of performing for Kurt, not even the stress of seeing a clump of Warblers in their navy and red in the hallway before the competition started, and knowing Blaine was amongst them. He didn’t look for Blaine in their number, but rather looked the other way. It was the best option, ignoring. But once he had gotten on that stage, even solo-less, everything else was wiped away for those scant few minutes. Even though he could make out where the group of Warblers was sitting in the audience through the stage lights, they were nothing. 

The ecstasy of it, pure adrenaline and joy mixed together in equal parts, kept him going afterwards; it was thrumming through his shaking hands as he took a seat in the auditorium to   
watch the other performers. Aural Intensity was alright, but forgettable, and he really wasn’t waiting to see them anyway. 

He had to admit it, as much as he was dreading seeing Blaine today, he was looking forward to it. Perversely, maybe. Knowing it would hurt. Conversely, though, he wanted to see him. 

The Warblers took the stage, and Kurt’s eyes when instantly to Blaine. Not that it was that difficult or outstanding. Blaine was standing stage center, several feet ahead of the neat lines of the other boys behind him. The spot light settled on him, and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat. He had seen Blaine perform before. Seen him in just day-to-day life. But he had also witnessed him stripped bare. This wasn’t Blaine’s veneer on stage. Kurt could tell that. 

The ensemble started the melody, harmony, and baseline, it all teasingly familiar. Then Blaine opened his mouth and started singing, the first few aching notes and words of “Somewhere Only We Know.”

Blaine’s face wasn’t written with its easy charm, like it often was, as he sang. Rather, he was singing, just singing, without practiced movements or whatever else that polished up performances. In fact, his eyes slide shut a lot as he sang, something Kurt knew he himself did when he was slipping completely into a song, just for himself, but it wasn’t often considered good stage presence. 

Blaine got to the chorus. His voice got stronger, deeper, like he was ripping out his everything from his gut. 

Santana reached over Brittany, who was sitting between Kurt and her, and poked him hard in the ribs. Kurt gave her a venomous look that he hoped conveyed both ‘not here’ and ‘not now.’ She didn’t look intimidated but she left him alone. 

Nearing the end of the number, Kurt overheard Brittany whisper to Santana, “I think Puck’s crying,” but paid no mind to that or anyone. He only had the eyes and ears for the stage, for Blaine. As Blaine was finishing off the last lines, his voice changed again, as if every noise he made was challenged with emotion. And his last, repeated, “somewhere only we know” had slipped into a whisper of a sing. Kurt was nearer the front of the audience, and he wasn’t sure if he barely heard it or if he imagined it, knowing Blaine’s voice, reading his lips, and expecting it to be there. It wasn’t nearly loud enough of an ending for a stage or an auditorium. It would probably be perceived as a weakness by the judge’s, who would see the performance as puttering out. But Kurt saw it as the perfect performance, in that it’s ending was something more deep and complicated than perfection. 

The audience applauded, and the Warblers shifted in there formation. Blaine slipped into the front row, and another boy stepped forward to take the lead. As the audience quieted, they started a upbeat performance of “Raise Your Glass” with much more involved choreography than they had seen from the Warblers last time they had competed. It would be another close call. Not that Kurt was really thinking about the competition in that moment. He was focusing on figuring out how to breathe again. 

…

Victory. Narrow, probably, but also the best victory, having jumped the hurdle that had tripped the New Directions the year before. They were going to Nationals. 

He had been hugged by everyone in New Directions at least twice when they decided collectively that as the Warblers had come to congratulate them at Sectionals, they should return the favor of polite competition. 

They found the Warblers in the lobby downtrodden but not devastated. Rachel said something loud, obnoxious and rude that made Kurt ache with second hand embarrassment. The   
Warblers didn’t seem all to care too much as they got to intermingle with a bunch of pretty girls. All boy’s school must be hard for straight boys. 

Blaine, as well as Nick, were the center of attention for New Directions’ admirations. Kurt watched from the outside of the clump of students, watched Blaine getting his hand shaken and such. He wasn’t being particularly talkative that day, so his crowd quickly moved onto more interesting pursuits. As Blaine was left alone, he looked up right at Kurt. Maybe he had felt Kurt, that whole time, looking at him.

Kurt did something he hadn’t expected of himself and jerked his head to the side to imply – let’s sneak off.

Blaine nodded and quickly excused himself. Kurt was about to do the same, thinking no one was paying attention to him. Santana must’ve caught on, however, because she pinched his arm hard as he passed by her. He didn’t look back though to give her time for words or even expressions. 

Blaine had stopped about halfway down the empty hallway, and Kurt joined him there. 

“You were great up there,” Kurt said. 

“I messed up the end,” Blaine said with a bit a shrug.

“No you didn’t,” Kurt replied. They stood there for a little while saying nothing. Kurt started a “Did you…” a question about the song and its relevance, but he didn’t finish it. Blaine was contemplating the tips of his shoes. 

Just as Kurt was about to dismiss himself for how useless this meeting had become, Blaine looked up and said, “I’ve missed you.”

Kurt swallowed and nodded, for it was more than a small talk ‘I missed you.’ 

“Yeah?” he questioned, trying not to sound too hopeful that he had meant as much intensely to Blaine as Blaine had to him. 

Blaine nodded. “Sorry, if that makes things awkward.”

“It doesn’t…,” Kurt said. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t know how to say more without trapping himself. 

“To be honest,” Blaine said, “I don’t really understand completely what went down. We were fine, maybe even more than, and then you called me, and we weren’t… and then I texted you that once and never heard back from you.” He sounded so uneasy as he spoke this, Blaine, shy and tentative. Kurt had seen his vulnerability before, but not because of something Kurt did. He suddenly felt like he could kick himself, remembering the story Blaine had confided in him that night, well before Kurt learned of his indiscretion of fooling around with someone else. Blaine had been abandoned by someone he had thrown in his emotions with, and Kurt just abandoned him too, and with not even the honor of doing it to his face. 

“I was in a bad place, and I’m sorry that it probably hurt you, my suddenly cutting out with barely an explanation. I wasn’t really thinking about how that would affect you.”

Blaine nodded, but didn’t ask for more explanation, but Kurt felt compelled to give it. 

“I shouldn’t have…” Kurt started, but he stopped and started over. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m really glad I met you, but I shouldn’t have had sex with you.”

“Was it that bad?” It was a desperate plea at joke in attempt to alleviate an emotionally tense situation. 

Kurt laughed. “It was great, actually, but at the same time… it kind of made me feel horrible.”

Blaine face deepened in concern.

“It’s not you,” Kurt said quickly, placing a hand on Blaine’s to try assure him of his earnesty. “You made me feel better than anyone in a long time. It’s just… it’s never what I wanted. Hooking up, outside of a relationship, with no feelings,” or with unrequited feelings, “and that just ultimately made me feel like crap.”

“Especially when you found out I was fooling around with other people too,” Blaine said, more to himself.

“That just brought it all home, what I was doing to myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said.

“It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong, actually. Like I said, you were great, and you made me feel great. It was, really, me that made me feel bad. It was my mistakes.”

“But I was implicit.”

“You didn’t know.”

“Well,” Blaine said, like a concession that he didn’t really believe. “It feels like it at least partially my fault. You stopped talking to me, after all.”

Kurt looked down, ashamed, even if shaming him certainly wasn’t his intention.

“I needed my space,” he said with a shrug, a hope of an explanation. “You and the situation were tangled together.” He shrugged again. He felt out of water. 

“Can we just be friends again?” Blaine asked. It was the ‘again’ that got to Kurt. . Because they had been friends. And maybe cutting away from Blaine for a while had been necessary for   
Kurt’s own sake – own emotional health. But it didn’t have to be an eternal breaking apart. 

“I would like that,” Kurt said, and he meant it. “Let’s just not rush anything, if that makes sense.”

“Sounds perfect,” Blaine said, and Kurt had to wonder if he were imagining the intensity of wonder in Blaine’s voice. 

…

“Did you two go screw in the bathroom or something?” was the first thing Santana asked as Kurt caught up with the New Directions as they awaited their bus. 

“No,” he said tersely. They were too many ears around to overhear to have this discussion with her. 

“You mean Kurt sneaking off with the bird-boy?” Brittany said in that head-in-the-clouds way she spoke everything. 

“What? What?” Kurt said, because two ‘what’s were necessary in this occasion.

“By bird-boy, she means Warbler,” Santana explained.

“No, I got that. But everyone saw?”

“You were in the middle of a giant group of people. How covert do you think you were being?” Santana shot back at him with an eye roll. 

As if on cue, Tina came up on one side of him, Mercedes on the other, and captured him between them both.

“Wasn’t that the same Warbler from the mall you were talking in private with?” Tina teased. 

“Right on, boy,” Mercedes said.

Kurt groaned in horror. 

The two girls positioned themselves on either side of him during the bus ride home and tried to pry the story of Kurt and Blaine – they knew his name from the program at the competition – from him. He gave away nothing, refuses to acknowledge anything beyond the point that they had talked the two times that the girls had spied them doing such. Tina was of the outspoken persuasion that the two of them had been dating in secret ever since she had given Blaine Kurt’s number at the mall. Secret, of course, because of after the Jesse St. James debacle last year, certainly he knew Rachel, at the least, would back a big deal out of it. 

Mercedes wasn’t so convinced, and believed Kurt was telling the truth in that he had only talked to Blaine these two times, but that Kurt certainly needed to “jump that boy” because he was fine and obviously interested in Kurt. 

Eventually Kurt gave up and let them speculate. Any refusal only feed their fire. Plus, neither of them were close to the actual truth. 

….

Aki – Just under the wire getting this updated in my week time limit. Anyone else really like the Diva episode? I did.


	11. Chapter 11

Friendship was surprisingly easy to fall back into. It started with a text from Blaine that very same night of Regionals. A single message received before Kurt was preparing to go to sleep. “BTW, you guys were really good. Congrats on the win!” 

Kurt ran his thumb over the screen as he read it over, like he was touching more than that. He didn’t want to be neglectful, he typed back “Thanks. Have a good night.”

That’s how they reformed it, a collection of texts that were often nothing more than mild observations about life they were sure the other would enjoy. Kurt making jibs about the fashion of his classmates; Blaine telling the tales of post-Regionals loss Warblers. 

This went on for about two weeks. Just texts. At least a small handful every day. And it never felt forced, like sometimes communication is. Rather, a simple connection, never unwanted, but never exceeding a barrier that was comfortably created between them. Not going too fast, like Kurt had asked. 

“Have you ever heard of the Lima Bean?” came a text early on a Saturday afternoon. 

“Been there once or twice,” Kurt typed back, followed by a “Why?”

“Headed there at the moment. Wondering if you cared to join me?” 

Kurt bit his bottom lip, but couldn’t help by smile when he thought about seeing Blaine in person. He texted back: “Long way from Westerville. When will you be getting there?”

His text was answered with a quick, “Yeah, long story. And about fifteen minutes.”

“See you then.” He tucked his phone into his pocket and then rushed to his bedroom to change out his jacket and shoes. He didn’t have time to create a whole new outfit, so he had to  
rely on his exquisite accessorizing talents to refresh his Saturday-around-the-house outfit. Not that his Saturday-around-the-house outfit wasn’t fabulous, just not going out to meet a boy even if that boy is just a friend fabulous. 

He rushed back down the stairs. Five minutes had passed. Thankfully he had done his hair right when he woke up this morning. 

“Dad, I’m going out,” he called as he dashed past the kitchen towards the front door. 

“Wait,” Burt called after him. “Where? With who? You know the drill.”

Kurt practically skidded to a stop before the front door. Right, the who new telling-his-dad-where-he-was-going thing. He had forgotten about that. And the clock was still ticking. There was a fine line between fashionably late and just plain rude late. 

“The Lima Bean. It’s a coffee house on Market. I’ll be back before dinner. Just meeting a friend.” Hopefully that would be enough.

“Which friend?” Burt asked. He didn’t even sound suspicious, like he was honestly asking without thinking that Kurt had been vague on purpose.

Kurt sighed. Resignation. “Blaine,” he said. 

Burt’s brow furrowed. His dad knew the names of everyone in glee club from Kurt’s stories. “Who’s Blaine?”

“Okay, this is the weird part,” Kurt said. Half of fifteen minutes was gone. “Blaine is the guy who I –” He didn’t know how to finish, and he didn’t need to. It was clear from Burt’s face that  
he got it. Kurt quickly said, “But I swear we’re just meeting as friends, for coffee.”

“As friends?” Burt asked, and it wasn’t clear whether skepticism or horror was more prominent in his tone. 

“See, we talked at Regionals, he and I. He’s in a rival glee club. I’m not sure I told you that before. But we talked, to smooth things out. And now we’re going to get coffee together,  
platonically. It’s just like if I were going out for coffee with Mercedes.”

“I can think of several ways it is not just like you were going out for coffee with Mercedes,” Burt said back dryly. 

Kurt had to concede that point. “True, but I swear, Dad, it really is just coffee… I’ll send you a picture of the coffee on my phone.”

Kurt stared with wide eyes as he watched his father, face mostly stoic, but head obviously turning. 

The man sighed. “You know I don’t know how to do the picture thing on my phone,” he said, resigned. Kurt restrained from squee-ing. 

“Thanks, Dad. See you for dinner.” He rushed out the door. 

When Kurt to The Lima Bean, Blaine was already there. He had a table saved for them, and he waved and smiled, and it all made Kurt have to chant “just friends” to himself as he waved  
back. There was thankfully no line, so he quickly got his coffee and joined Blaine at the table. 

“How are you?” Kurt asked, in an interested and sweet way, more than the usual way someone would ask. 

“Better now that you’re here,” Blaine said without a hint of irony. 

Kurt ducked his head.

“Sorry,” Blaine said, not sounding that sorry, but maybe a touch awkward. “That was obnoxiously flirty.”

“You really need to learn how to communicate without hitting on someone at the same time,” Kurt said back. 

“I’ll put it on the top of my to do list,” Blaine said. This wasn’t overtly a flirt, but with the tone of voice he said it in, it might as well have been. It was probably more dangerous than Kurt  
had anticipated, agreeing to meet Blaine today. And he didn’t think Blaine knew what he was doing, but that wasn’t new. Blaine never had known quite the effect he had on Kurt. 

So they caught up. There were more details and nuisances to stories than could be conveyed in text messages. Kurt found himself laughing and smiling and engaging and, best of all, forgetting. Forgetting all their past, from their first time to the most recent, unintended flirt, and living in just the now with Blaine and their much simpler friendship. They were good as friends. They worked as friends. It was a perfect mix of compatible senses of humor, having plenty in common, and disagreeing on a few things to keep everything interesting. It was a relief, really, knowing that Blaine as a person Kurt could really like once putting aside the blinders of infatuation. 

Blaine and Kurt were in the middle of a complex comparison of Wes and Rachel Berry when Kurt’s phone buzzed. He quickly checked his phone to find a text from Tina’s number that  
read: “We see you!” It was quickly followed by a second message, this one a picture of Kurt and Blaine at that very moment sitting in the Lima Bean, at an angle that caught the back of Kurt’s head. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tina and Mercedes sitting at table against the far wall. They smiled mischievously at him across the distance. 

“Oh my god,” Kurt said in horror.

“What’s wrong?” Blaine asked with an adorable head tilt.

“My two friends are over there,” Kurt said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder to indicate, “And they’re crazy.”

Blaine leaned sideways in his chair to see past Kurt. “Oh, yeah, one of them is the one who gave me your phone number at the mall,” he said, rather cheery and unaffected. Then he  
waved. 

Kurt could hear the girls cackling without even straining to listen. His ears went red, and he reached over the table to push Blaine’s arm down. 

“Don’t encourage them,” Kurt hissed. “They’re like, convinced were a couple.” 

“And they don’t know –”

“No,” Kurt said. “None of my friends know, except Santana, who’s not really my friend. And I didn’t tell her. She just has a psychic ability to know when people are having sex.”

“What?”

“She seriously saw the two of us briefly interact at after Sectionals, and knew we were… you know.”

“I know,” Blaine said, looking down at tabletop, suddenly quiet.

“Do any of your friends, classmates know about me?” Kurt asked shyly. 

“Well, I’m not exactly known for being a monk,” Blaine said. “Wes knows like everything. But he knows everything anyway. I think the people who cared enough about my love life to pay  
attention knew I was fooling around with someone who didn’t go to Dalton, but I don’t think they realized it was the Kurt Hummel of the New Directions.”

Kurt laughed. “That’ll be the day. When I’m the Kurt Hummel.”

“It’ll it happen,” Blaine said with the upmost confidence. 

“You don’t know that,” Kurt said back. 

“Yes I do,” Blaine replied. “You’re way too…” He didn’t finish.

“What? Way to what? You can’t leave that dangling over me.”

“Way too… passionate, for it not to.”

Kurt ducked his head to hide his blush. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for stating the truth.”

Kurt laughed again, more pleasant. “You’re incorrigible.” 

He shrugged, but seemed pleased. Tina and Mercedes were leaving, and passed by their table as they did so. They were giggling already, but waved as they passed by. Kurt glared at them. Blaine waved back, resulting in them moving their heads together and begin in aggressive whispers.

“They’re going suffocate me on Monday,” Kurt said to Blaine. “I hope you know that you will be considered an accessory to my murder, with all this waving.”

…

They indeed did attempt to suffocate Kurt with questions and their self-invented delusions. He denied everything, from the absurdities to the things achingly close to the truth. Despite  
his efforts, they continued in on him, and he was ready to crack – though he wasn’t entirely sure what his cracking would involve – around lunch time. 

Then Santana appeared. Which was never something Kurt would have believed to be a true and utter relief. And although he wouldn’t call them friends, they were, at the very least, confidants. With a few well-placed insults, insinuations of bigger gossip and drama elsewhere, sandwiched with even more insults, and Tina and Mercedes were gone. 

“Thanks,” Kurt mouthed as Santana took a seat across from him at the lunch table. 

She glared. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Um, lunch.”

“I heard what those two have been talking about all day. I’ve also saw all those cute little facebook comments from Blaine. It was great seeing you Saturday, winky face. So I say again, what the hell.”

“We’re friends.”

Santana, then, snorted. “You can’t be friends with someone you’re fucking.” 

Kurt glowered and said back to her in a harsh whisper. “We’re not fucking anymore. And you’re one to talk.”

If Santana was affronted by his last comment, she didn’t show it with more than a toss of her ponytail over her shoulder. “Let me rephrase. You, Kurt Flaming Hummel, period, cannot be  
friend with someone you are or have fucked.”

Kurt crossed his arms and didn’t respond. A little bit of him wanted her to continue. She had been pretty spot on with some things so far.

“You’re a lady gay, Hummel, who wants flowers and shit. And you already made the mistake of sleeping with him without all that. As much as you try, you’re friendship is going to be  
defined by that. And then you’re going to fall into the rut.”

“The rut?”

“The rut,” Santana repeated. “The you were just friends having sex before, why can’t you be just friends having sex now rut. Because let’s face it, Hummel, you might have stopped  
having sex with him, but you still want to have sex with him. And it’s easy, when you’re both ready to dive into no-strings. What’s hard, what’s impossible, is having sex within the  
parameters you want it. Because, come on, who’s going to through with dating and relationship and putting your heart out on the line to shack up when you can shack up with the person  
you’re in love with without all the emotional risk.”

Kurt placed his hands on the table and leaned forward. “I know I’ve said this before, but are you talking about you or me?”

Santana huffed, and tossed her hair again. “I’m going tell you this, more than I’ve ever told anyone,” she said in a dangerously quiet tone. “I’m talking about the both of us.” She pushed  
back from the table and stood up. “Now, I’m a million times more experienced than you and wiser than you, so you can either take my advice, or you can screw up your own life. I don’t care anymore.”

…

Blaine was thrumming with excitement to see Kurt again. They had gone out for coffee last weekend and it had already felt like it had been too long since they had seen each other. This time they were meeting at some Italian restaurant in Lima, Breadstix or something.

It started out great. The meet up and just chatting. He liked seeing Kurt laugh and just be excited and happy. It made him happy. 

After they order, Kurt had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. As Kurt disappeared around the corner, a girl slipped into his abandoned seat across from Blaine. 

“Um, this table taken –” he started politely. 

“Listen up, Blaine Warbler, and listen up good,” she said, “Tall, pale, and effeminate takes exactly seven minutes in the bathroom, so I only have time to say this once.”

“Who are you?” Blaine asked, though she looked vaguely familiar. 

“Santana Lopez,” she said shortly.

The name rung a bell, and he recalled her from New Directions now. 

She checked a dainty and what looked like diamond-studded watch on her wrist. “No time for chit-chat. You play with Kurt’s emotions, and I’ll tear your intestines out with my bare hands.”

“I’m not going to play—,”

Santana scoffed loudly, cutting him off. “You were too stupid to notice what you were doing to him when you two were, well,” she made a lewd hand gesture that was impossible to misinterpret. “Sorry if I’m not overly optimistic that you wouldn’t accidently drag him over coals again. And I can tell from your stupidly dropped jaw and your obnoxiously big raised eyebrows that this is news to you. Kurt deals with a lot of shit at our school, a lot of shit, and he’s almost as good as me at repressing all that, so it’s not a surprise to me that your clueless self the extent you screwed him over. Don’t do it again. Don’t tease him with a maybe/maybe not romance. Or, like I said, my fingernails will become acquainted with your guts.”

She stood, but Blaine stilled her with a “Wait.” He swallowed. “Why do you care? I’m not trying to be an jerk, asking that. I’m glad Kurt has someone watching his back…but he mentioned you before and he said you knew about us, but that you two weren’t friends.”

She pursed her lips and glanced down the path to the bathroom. She sat slowly and leaned in to say, “There’s a sort of parallel between me and Kurt. I’m the obviously hotter, more popular, closeted lesbian version of him, and I guess I have a vested interest in one of our lives working out all right.” 

She stood this time and didn’t look back as she marched away. A minute later, Kurt returned. 

“You okay?” he asked.

Blaine carefully schooled his face into something more neutral. “Yeah, just hungry.”

Kurt hmmed and said, “The service is usually pretty fast here. We shouldn’t have to wait too long.”  
They sat in quiet for a while. “We should get cheesecake for desert. Do you like cheesecake?”

“It’s good.”

“It’s good,” Kurt said with a laugh. “It’s cheesecake,” he said with a particular emphasis. “It’s better than fries in milkshakes.”

Blaine smiled. “Gosh, I almost forgot about that.”

“Don’t. I could never. That night kinda… saved me.”

Kurt bit his lip and glanced at Blaine through his eyelashes. Blaine’s heart rate tripled, or so it felt. It felt like… oh god, he couldn’t think it. Not now. He didn’t want to face it. Not now, after all the climbing it took to get to this peaceful medium with Kurt, not after hearing a condemnation of his past from that Santana girl. Not now, when it was something he couldn’t have. But it was a crashing freight train of an emotion, impossible to be swept under the rug, even as practiced as Blaine was at sweeping under the rug. 

Luckily, the waitress showed up with their food, and he could be overly distracted with the preoccupation of eating. 

…

“Wes, can I talk to you?” 

“Sure,” Wes said, pushing his glasses up his nose. It was late, after Blaine’s not-date with Kurt, and he was assured by the lateness because Wes had taken out his contacts already. 

“Do you mind if I notecard as you talk?” Wes said, waving around a pile of notecards with terms and definitions written on them.

“Go ahead,” Blaine said, instead of nodding as Wes wasn’t even looking at him. Tearing Wes away from homework or Warblers was something of a feat. 

“I do have feelings for Kurt.”

Wes put down his notecards and actually looked at Blaine, a sure indicator of how serious that proclamation was. 

“Wow,” Wes said. “I mean, I’ve been saying it all along and always love to be proved right, but, still, wow. What brought this on?”

“Just being with him. Seeing him,” he sighed. “With no other expectations.”

Wes nodded sagely. “So, are you going to ask him out?”

“No.”

Wes titled his head as if he hadn’t heard correctly. “What?” he asked. 

Blaine leaned back and plunked the back of his head against the wall. “The thing is, for him, I’d be willing to risk it all. Risk myself and my feelings and everything that goes along with that. But I’m not willing to risk his.”

Wes’ face was screwed up in confusion and contemplation, but he was letting Blaine talk. It was the most Blaine had talked about it before. 

He stared at the ceiling and continued, dejected, “I don’t know how to be in a relationship, even if he wanted to be in one with me. I don’t know anything about dating or romance or boyfriends. And when I’m honest with myself, I know I’m still pretty messed up from… from my bashing and everything that went with it. I wouldn’t want to drag Kurt into the experimental, most likely disastrous mess that my first relationship will probably be.” His brow scrunched up. “I don’t want to hurt him more.”

“Blaine,” Wes said quietly from the other side of the room. “I know I rag on you sometimes, but you’re honestly one of the best people I know. You deserve to be happy, despite everything.”

“Yeah, well, so does Kurt.” 


	12. Chapter 12

Santana was true to her word in that she didn’t approach Kurt again. If he didn’t know better, he would say that she was especially moody and quiet whenever he chanced to be in her presence. This was usually glee practice, and a few other times New Directions members were gathered. In those cases, she was usually either a sarcastic bitch or silently glaring from whatever corner she tucked herself in, so being silent now wasn’t much of a difference.

Kurt didn’t pay mind to her, though. They weren’t friends. Excepting those handful of times she had lowered herself to talk to him, they didn’t talk, they didn’t hang out, they didn’t have   
a rapport. Other than the fact of her saying she wasn’t going to help him anymore, and that she wasn’t helping him anymore, he wouldn’t probably have noticed a change in her behavior.   
And she was wrong, anyway, about Blaine and him. They were so awesome at doing friends. Even if Burt looked like he was about to have a seizure every time Kurt told him that he was meeting up with Blaine. Everything was smooth sailing.   
Until…

“So, I’ve heard about this Blaine.” That was Rachel Berry. And Rachel Berry equaled bad news.

“Mercedes or Tina?” Kurt deadpanned. 

“Both. It’s easy to overhear them talk.”

“Great,” Kurt grumbled, because if Rachel, who didn’t know the definition of subtle, had been able to carelessly overhear Mercedes and Tina’s gossip, she couldn’t have been the only one. 

“They’re hardly the only ones! Everyone’s talking about it.”

“Everyone?” Kurt squeaked. 

“Well, a couple people are talking about it, but for unpopular people like us, that might as well be the whole school.”

“Please don’t say us like we are part of the same category,” Kurt said. He slammed his locker and started in the other direction. Rachel, not taking the hint, followed. 

“Anyway, I need to discuss him with you, this Blaine,” Rachel said.

“This Blaine, that sounds ominous… Despite what you’ve heard, we’re not dating.”

“Mercedes and Tina said you were in denial.”

“Of course they did.” He rounded the hallway corner quickly. He had gone through a growth spurt not long ago that gave him a significant stride advantage over Rachel. She strutted hard to   
keep up anyway. 

“Well, how I see it –”

“You know nothing about it,” Kurt spoke over her.

Rachel continued on undeterred, “That you and he are in the amorphous phase of pre-dating. You know, flirtation and infatuation.”

“You know nothing,” he said, and it still kind of hurt. 

“But you need to see past that because it is obviously a plot to destroy New Directions.”

Kurt stopped still and turned on heel to look at her. “What?”

“He’s using you to bring down New Directions,” Rachel said, enunciating carefully.

“We already beat the Warblers.”

“It’s a revenge plot,” Rachel whispered back. 

Kurt gapped at her. “You’re crazy. Not everyone is Jesse St. James. And the world doesn’t revolve around show choir competitions.”

Rachel looked affronted, mostly from the last statement too. 

“Well, when it all goes horrible, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Rachel said with a huff and then marched off. 

And as if that moment couldn’t get any worse, a half minute later Kurt was shoved sharply into the lockers next to him, dropping his books at the surprise. A few months ago he walked   
around with his schoolbooks always in a vice grip against his chest in preparation for knocks and shoves. But they had toned down as of late, and he had become lax. As he stooped to start collecting his things before they were all too tromped on, he looked up to see the hulking form of Dave Karofsky retreating down the hallway. It had been a while since he had any interaction with the boy, but it still left Kurt with a sour taste. 

…

Friday night dinner had been something that had been a traditional even before Kurt’s mother had passed away when he was just a small child still, but it had taken a particular significance after she died. There was something about losing someone loved so intensely by both Kurt and Burt that made them learn to appreciate the time they did have with the remainders of their family. Friday night dinners had often had additions lately, with Carole and Finn. This Friday was one of them. It was at the Hummel house, and Carole had come over early to cook with Burt. They were nauseously cute and lovey-dovey when they did this, and Kurt – as much as he enjoyed helping in the kitchen – avoided it like the plague. 

Finn showed up later, after sports practice and even more, after he had gone home, showered, and changed clothes. When they were all together, they sat down for dinner. It was pleasant, though his dad and Carole were acting particularly perky. There was nothing wrong with that, and Kurt liked his dad being happy, but he had also been comfortable with his dad being a celibate single. Maybe it was a similar type of horror for Burt, finding out that his child had sex, was for Kurt, when he was reminded by circumstances that his father was having sex. 

It turned out that Burt and Carole had big news to spill to their respective children. 

…

“My dad’s getting married,” Kurt said, collapsing into his seat at the Lima Bean. 

Blaine tilted his head and questioned, “Is that good or bad?”

“It’s good, just… a surprise. And it changes things. Like, I got used to him dating, but it’s still been me and my dad, the two of us, for a long time. Bringing in a step-mom and step-  
brother, it changes thing.”

“You said that twice. It changes things.”

“Well, it does!”

Blaine chuckled. “I’m not saying it doesn’t, but life changes every day. Trying to fight against it, keep things the same, is a losing struggle.”

“Okay, well, then, it’s going to be a bigger and more sudden change than I’m used to.”

Blaine cheers-ed his coffee cup toward his companion, conceding him the last word. 

“So, what’s up with you?” Kurt asked. 

Blaine shrugged a shoulder. “Nothing much.”

“There’s always something.”

Blaine shook his head. “Not really. School, Warblers. Hanging out with Wes. Hanging out with you.”

“I’m glad I was notable enough to make that illustrious list,” Kurt teased.

“You’re always notable, Kurt Hummel,” Blaine bantered back. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It was intended as one.”

Kurt sighed, because somehow their conversations always threaded around to this place. The banter that was more flirt than friendship. He consciously redirected the conversation back to where it started. 

“You have nothing else going on in your life than Wes and me? No parties, no drama, no… boys?”

That’s what friends did, right? Inquire after their friend’s dating life. Why did it feel so awkward then? 

Blaine went a little pink and was staring at the table top. When he spoke, his voice was higher than normal. “No, um, nope. Nothing on that front.”

Kurt downed the last dreads of his lukewarm mocha in the following silence. “I’ll have to go in a little bit. I promised Carole I’d met her after she gets off her shift to go over the   
centerpieces with her. I think that you should at least have a year to plan a wedding, but they went ahead and booked the church and reception hall for two weeks from now. So if I turn into a bridezilla between then and now, you know why.”

“Shouldn’t it be Burt and Carole stressing over planning the wedding and not you?” 

“If I didn’t do it for them, the theme would be denim and plaid. Trust me, me taking a lead role in planning this thing is best for everyone involved.”

… 

“And I think that completes the guest list,” Carole said with a sigh late that night. She was sitting in the living room of the Hummel house with Kurt on the floor at the coffee table, stuffing envelopes with invitations that Kurt himself had ordered, but Burt had paid for and picked up from the printer earlier that day.

“Good,” Kurt said. “Because we need to get these invitations out fast if the wedding is in two weeks.”

“Still on that, are we?” Carole said back in a motherly tease. 

“I will never let it be forgotten.”

She laughed lightly, and got up from her seat on the couch to stretch her back. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?” Kurt asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“You’re been so helpful ever since we announced the wedding, so I’d thought it was only fair you got the first one,” she said, sliding something out something from beneath all the papers 

tangled over the coffee table, well, on the half Carole was using. Kurt’s half was immaculately organized. 

She handed over an envelope with neat calligraphy letters on the front. 

“The first invitation? That’s so sweet.”

“I thought you’d like it, even though you already knew you were invited.”

Kurt flipped open the unsealed envelope and looked fondly at the invitation even though he had just spent the last hour plus stuffing the exact same invitations in the exact same envelopes.   
He looked again at the envelope. 

“Kurt Hummel and Guest,” he read. “Carole, anyone I’d invite, everyone from glee, is going to be there. They’re providing the music, remember?” 

“I thought that maybe you might like to invite someone else,” Carole said, vague, though sounding sly as she said it.

“Someone else?” Kurt asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Like a date. It’s what the and guest part means, after all.”

“Where do you think I’m going to get a date?” Kurt asked. 

Carole shifted the weight between her feet. “I heard rumor that there was a boy.”

“Oh my god, who told you?” How far had this rumor spread? “Was it Finn? Did Rachel tell him? Wait, didn’t Rachel and he break up?” Kurt had been so consumed in his own drama of late,   
he hadn’t followed the rest of glee club’s so well. It used to be a source of entertainment, but it was less so when you got an insider’s view. 

Carole wasn’t a good liar, nor did she aim to be. “Finn, no. I’m lucky to get three words out of him about school. Teenage boys just like to grunt and eat. Well, most,” she amended,   
giving Kurt an exception to that. “Your father mentioned a few times that you were going out with a boy…”

Kurt blanched. “How much did he tell you?” he asked quickly. He didn’t want everyone to know, or even anyone, about his debacle of a sex life he had had with Blaine. 

“Not much at all, just that there was a boy…, and well, he honestly didn’t too happy about it, but overprotective single parent and all that, I understand.”

Kurt let out a relieved chuckle. “Despite what you may have believed, this boy and I are just friends. Not, definitely not, dating.”

Carole had a knowing look on her face at that. What she knew, Kurt wasn’t sure. 

“Invite him anyway,” Carole said. “And guest can mean friend, too.” 

“He doesn’t know anybody.”

“He knows you.”

“He’s probably busy.”

“He might not be.”

“The caterer, the seating chart…”

“I already calculated him into everything.”

Kurt eyed her warily. “What you’re angle?”

“I just want you to have a good time, and he obviously means a lot to you, as much time as you spend together. A wedding is a party, after all, why not have one of your best friends   
there.”

“He’s not my – ,” Kurt started. For once he was going to end the sentence with boyfriend . It was going to be ended with best friend. But when he thought about it, he had shared more   
of his personal fears and secrets and intimacies with Blaine more than any other of his friends. 

“Invite him, dear,” Carole said, patting him on the shoulder. “I insist.”

“Yes,” Kurt grimaced. “I noticed.”

…

He called Blaine the next day. After some cursory small talk, he announced it. 

“I’m supposed to invite you to the wedding, as per my to-be step-mom.”

“Oh… do you not want me to come?”

“Huh?”

“The way you phrased it, it sounded like you didn’t want me to come. Like, your step-mom’s forcing you to ask… because I can be busy if you don’t want me to come.”

“I didn’t want it to sound like that,” Kurt said do. He hadn’t. He was more being snarky about Carole’s behavior. 

“And if you do want me to come, my calendar’s free,” Blaine added, more lightly yet. 

“Oh.” Kurt hadn’t thought it would be his choice, and really hadn’t thought whether or not he wanted Blaine to come. Now it was all on him, which wasn’t really how invites were   
supposed to work. The answer came to him easily though. “I want you to come,” Kurt said. 

“Then I will,” Blaine said back. Kurt imagined him smiling as he said it. Was it possible to hear a smile in a voice?

“This will only add fuel to the flames of Tina and Mercedes. Not to mention Rachel,” Kurt said, plopping down on his bed, ready for a long chat with Blaine hopefully to follow all this   
wedding talk.

“The girl who thinks I’m plotting to overthrow New Directions?” 

“Mmmhmm. And you’ll get to meet my dad. That’ll be awkward. Obviously I didn’t think this through.”

“I can still back out,” Blaine said, quickly and seriously. 

“Blaine,” Kurt said. “I was just teasing.”

“I just… I don’t want to cross any lines,” Blaine said, and then in a quieter din, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Things being awkward and things being hurtful are two different things.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Blaine said. Like Kurt could hear the smile, here he could hear the shrug. 

“I’m sure,” Kurt said. “You’re being very… courteous.” It wasn’t the exact right word, but he couldn’t simply explain Blaine’s sudden over-cautiousness with all this. 

“Look, I just don’t want to put you in a situation that would be unpleasant for you. The wedding is way more important to you than it would be to me. I wouldn’t want ruin it.”

“I want you to come,” Kurt insisted. “That’s the end of it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Everyone was confusing Kurt lately: Rachel, Carole, and now Blaine. And each in increasing amounts.


	13. Chapter 13

“Dad, you know that Carole invited Blaine,” Kurt said to his father over dinner a week after it had been decided. 

Burt looked up from his plate, confused. 

“Carole,” Kurt reiterated. “She invited Blaine to the wedding.”

“Why would she do that?” Burt asked.

“I don’t know. But she was insistent.”

Burt gave Kurt a scrutinizing look. 

Kurt put his hands up to not implicate himself in any of it. “You’ll have to take it up with her.” Of course, there was no way Burt was going to take up something that was touchy and  
could easily turn into a fight on the nearing eve of his wedding with his to-be wife. 

“But he’s coming, so I am just letting you know. Like, I know it is your parentally prerogative to hate him and whatever, but he really is a decent guy and a good friend, and he doesn’t deserve to die. So you just need to enjoy your wedding, and not worry about it.”

Burt sighed. “Kurt, of course I’m going to worry about it. I’m always going to worry about you.”

“I’m alright,” Kurt said.

“I saw you in tears over this guy – because of this guy. I’m trying to let you make your own choices in this, but… but I can’t help think every time you go out to see Blaine you’re going to come back more hurt.”

“Dad,” Kurt said, with nothing more attached on. His tone was actual sympathy for his father. He knew his dad wasn’t comfortable with him having a continuing friendship with Blaine after everything that had went down between the two of them. His dad hadn’t said as much, but it was on his face, in his tone of voice, every time Kurt announced he was going to see Blaine.  
What Kurt hadn’t realized was that complexity of Burt’s feelings. That they were more than the traditional parent not wanting kid to have sex, and was much more about Kurt’s own personal hurt.

Burt rubbed a hand over his head and he looked tired. “The biggest part of me wants to forbid you from seeing him, but I know that would never work and you’d do what you wanted anyway.”

Kurt huffed, but it was true.

“I can’t help but think,” Burt continued, “that whatever reason your hanging out with him still, because you feel like you owe it to him, or you still have feelings for him, you should stop.”

It was the most honest opinion Kurt had gotten out of Burt on the subject, not that he had been prying. His dad had probably kept this all quelled up for a while now, afraid that any of it would set his sometimes emotionally volatile son erupting, whether in the despair he had previously shown or sort of petulant anger against his father. 

“It’s not like that,” Kurt said, not really defensive at all.

“Well…” Burt shrugged a shoulder. He was clearly well-formed and well-spoken on what his opinions on the matters were. “You’re almost an adult, and you need to make these  
decisions for yourself, and I’ll be there for you. I’m not gonna be all spiteful and I told you so, but you know my thoughts on that matter now.”

….

“So, let me get this straight, you’re going to the wedding of two people you’ve never met before, with a load of guests you never met before, as the date of the guy you have feeling for but haven’t told, as his friend.”

“That’s the fourth time you’ve asked that; you’re being a facetious asshole,” Blaine said, taking care with his tie. 

“But you can see why I’m confused,” Wes challenged. 

Blaine shook him head and ignored him.

“But I’m still hopeful,” Wes said, “That, you know, at something romantic like a wedding, that in the moment you might be inspired to confess to Kurt what you really feel about him.”

“Wes,” Blaine scolded lightly. He wasn’t too bothered by Wes’ insistences over Kurt, other that they had gotten annoying over time. Wes really cared about what was best for Blaine, which is something for him. Of course, Wes’ way of caring was usually stubbornly within his own opinion and view on the subject, so he really didn’t comprehend the depth of Blaine’s hesitance. There were two people and their happiness involved here, not just Blaine’s. And that made everything unpredictable. 

Blaine gave his suit jack one last tug and turned away from the mirror to face Wes. 

“So, how do I look?”

Wes scoffed and said with a sort of dry resignation, “Charming and dapper. Don’t break too many hearts.”

…

Those two girls, Tina and Mercedes, took seats on either side of Blaine, mischievous smiles on their faces. 

“So, Blaine,” one of the girls, Tina, Blaine believed, said. “We haven’t formerly been introduced.”

“Nice to meet you,” Blaine said. He was a little surprised that this hadn’t happened already, how these girls had been, according to Kurt, very interested in what was going on between the two of them. He had survived the entire ceremony without any such interaction, although there hadn’t been much of chance to then. They were busy with quite the wedding performance. Best wedding Blaine had ever been to. But they had taken about an hour in the reception to come talk to him. He hadn’t gotten to see much of Kurt yet than a few quick greeting. As both the son of the groom and the best man, he had been busy. 

“What’re your intentions with Kurt?” Mercedes asked, though with a touch of irony in the phrasing. 

“We’re friends,” Blaine said.

Mercedes hmmed, unimpressed. 

“But seriously,” Tina said, “What’s the deal with you two?”

“What has Kurt told you?” Blaine returned. 

Neither looked pleased with that answer. “That you’re just friends,” Mercedes said dryly. “And it’s none of our business.”

“Shouldn’t you respect that your friend said it was none of your business?” Blaine asked politely.

The two girls laughed uproariously. “That’s not how friends work.”  
Just then, Kurt showed up at the table side, arms crossed, giving the girls a little glare. They were unaffected.

“Hello, Kurt, we were just talking to Blaine here.”

“I’m sure you were. Now, Tina, you realize your boyfriend is waiting for you on the dance floor. And Mercedes, Carole had this teenage second cousin whose been asking about you.” That was all it took to get the girls to vacate the table. Though the still got a few glances thrown their way. Kurt took a seat down next to Blaine. 

“Sorry I’ve left you all alone for so long,” he said.

“It’s alright. It’s a family wedding. All your friends are here. You should be out there having fun. And I’ve enjoyed watching all these performances. You guys are really talented.”

“Well,” Kurt said, teasing, “You should’ve known that already. We did beat you at regionals, after all.”

“You wound me,” Blaine said, though not upset at all. 

Kurt shrugged.

“It’s a beautiful wedding. Whoever organized it did a wonderful job,” Blaine said, a twinkle in his eye.

Kurt put a hand to his heart. “You know how to flatter me.”

Blaine ducked his head, almost embarrassed by the banter. The music shifted songs around them. 

When Blaine looked up again, he saw Kurt looking out upon the dance floor, teaming with couple curled up close against each other and swaying, his parents and all his glee club  
amongst them. 

“Do you want to?” Blaine asked.

Kurt looked at his quizzically.

Blaine nodded his head toward the busy dance floor.  
“Oh,” Kurt said, eyes flickering between the couples and Blaine. “It’s a slow song,” he said as an explanation, or a deterrent. 

“I know.” Blaine stood and held out a hand for Kurt’s. “Come on.”

…

Blaine must’ve seen the longing in Kurt’s eyes as he had watched literally every one of his friends partner up with a significant others or potential significant others. Mike and Tina, Mercedes and the cousin he had mentioned, Brittany and Artie, Finn and Rachel, Quinn and Sam (he wasn’t sure what was going on with that crazy love tangle at this point), even Puck and an older single woman. Santana was missing. She had been dancing with Puck earlier, but not for long. They had a past, but Kurt didn’t think they had much of a present anymore. 

Still, it had seemed something so nice, to slow dance with someone. Then Blaine asked it of him, and he replied that it was a slow dance, thinking Blaine hadn’t realized quite the  
intimacy of the moment. Blaine was not stopped, though, and he stood and offered his hand. 

“Come on,” Blaine said. Kurt stared at his hand a moment before taking it and letting Blaine pull him up. 

He couldn’t think of anything but Blaine’s hand in his as the boy led him to the dance floor. He had touched so much more of Blaine, had Blaine touch so much more of him, and yet, this felt inexplicably more than all of that. Maybe because it had been so long they had sat in the realm of friendship without these types of touches. Maybe it was something else. Kurt’s head was swimming too much to really think it out as Blaine tugged him into position for a dance. 

The hands they were holding stayed clasped between them. Blaine’s other arm wrapped lightly around his back. Kurt imitated the action. There was little space between their bodies. They began swaying in time with the music. 

“I’ve never done this before,” Kurt whispered.

“What?” Blaine asked, pulling back a little to look his dance partner in the face.

Kurt smiled shyly. “Slow danced with a boy.”

Blaine moved back into position. “I’ll gladly be your first.”

“You already have been,” Kurt said. He heard Blaine huff quietly, and felt the air of the huff on the skin of his neck. He rested his chin on Blaine’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure when they had moved so close together that he was able to do that, but they had. He hoped his heart wasn’t beating too fast, revealing himself. 

The one slow song was followed by another. Weddings tended to be rife with romantic swooning songs, so it wasn’t so strange. They kept dancing. Kurt was unaware of anything but them, the two of them. Everyone could have been staring and he wouldn’t have known or cared. 

But he did care that he was clinging onto Blaine right now and Blaine was holding him back. This wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t slow dance and have their heart be break as they did so. It also wasn’t what hook up buddies Kurt and Blaine did either. Despite their few moments of raw and revealed emotional intimacy, that had all been done with one goal in mind. This was something else, and probably one-sided, and definitely all in his head. 

Kurt stopped, the second song was still going. 

“Everything okay?” Blaine asked.

“I need to – I need to sit down for a minute.”

“Dizzy?” Blaine questioned, sounding oblivious to the center of Kurt’s distress.

Kurt swallowed down hard, down everything. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.” He left Blaine there on the dance floor and he couldn’t care enough over the awkwardness of his exit.

…

Kurt left, and Blaine didn’t wait around for any of the fall out. A couple of Kurt’s friends were looking at him and looking at Kurt retreating wherever he was retreating. He went in a different path, out the door of the reception hall, and even further, out the door that led outside. He wasn’t leaving, but he needed out for a second. 

Once outside, he pulled out his cell phone and called Wes.

“Hey,” answered Wes, sounding confused. “How’s the wedding going?”

“Do you think a slow dance is enough to… to have a moment about someone that makes you realize…?” Blaine asked, kind of breathless and kind of anxious.

“You and Kurt slow danced?” Wes countered.

“Answer my question.”

Wes was quiet for a moment over the phone, collecting his thoughts. “Well, while slow dances can be platonic or amongst family, there is certainly a certain intimacy of the gesture, and considering the romantic and passionate connotations society ascribes to the actions, I don’t think it would absurd for it to trigger a revelation of feeling for someone you’re already familiar with.”

Blaine sighed harshly. “I need a straight answer and not psychoanalysis.”

“That was more sociology than psychoanalysis, but… straight answer, when we’re talking about you and Kurt, yes.”

“Oh,” Blaine said.

“What’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“But slow dance with Kurt.”

“And fall in love with him.”

“…What?”

“I think.”

Blaine held his phone so close to his ear, waiting for a more formed out thought from his closest friend.

“Blaine, you need to tell him,” Wes said slowly and carefully, as if to make sure his meaning was not missed.

“I can’t,” Blaine said, and it was surprisingly hard to scrape out of his throat.

“Yes, I know, I know, you don’t want him to get hurt, but he’s not going to get hurt but you telling him you love him. Even if he doesn’t reciprocate, it won’t hurt him.”

Blaine squeezed his eyes shut. He wished it was that easy and he wished that he articulate all the wells of his doubt and hesitance and the overwhelming impossibility of being able to confess it. “I can’t. It’s too big.”

…

Kurt left the dance floor, but he didn’t go to sit. Desperate to get out of sight, he went down the side hallway to the restrooms. He wasted time washing his hands and then practiced a more composed face in the mirror. He pushed out the door and there was Santana. 

“You’re an idiot,” she said. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked internally and intensely disgruntled.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to help me anymore.”

“Who’s helping you? I just called you an idiot.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. She had been pushing herself into his business for some reason. He’d expect she had more to say and he wasn’t ready to go back into the crowd.

“You don’t dance with someone you love, but can’t have. It’s like, you’re tricking yourself. You don’t see me dancing with Brittany tonight, even though she’d say yes if I asked her.”

Kurt cocked his head to the side. “You love Brittany?” She had said and hinted at much. But this was a lot. This was everything.  
Santana’s eyes were suddenly watery. “I told her,” she said. “I told her last week.”

“What happened?” Kurt asked.

Santana pursed her lips, looked angry, before she continued. “She’s still dating Wheels, so…” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She blinked heavy, trying to hold back the tears. Kurt was familiar with the tactic. 

“Do… do you want a hug?” If it had been another of the girls that Kurt was more familiar with, hell, even Rachel, he probably would have given a hug no questions, but Santana was kind of prickly and he wasn’t sure she would appreciate it.

She shifted in spot and said, “I wouldn’t push you away if you tried.”

Kurt interrupted that, tentatively, as a yes. He moved forward and carefully (and loosely) wrapped his arms around her shoulders. It was for an awkward five seconds or so he stayed like that, and just as he was about to let go and step back, Santana turned into his embrace. She ducked her head onto his shoulder and stayed crying in earnest. 

Kurt didn’t know what to do, so he just didn’t stop hugging her.

“Why couldn’t she love me back?” Santana said between her sobs. 

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said, and because he had nothing else to say, he said it again and again. “I’m sorry.” He was sorry, too, because he understood this anguish quite personally, and had recently felt it. 

Santana cried herself out after a few minutes, and pulled back from Kurt, just as stiff and reserved as he had found her. 

“This never happened,” she said. It sounded more heartbroken than coldhearted, and Kurt didn’t resent her for it in the least. 

…

Kurt and Blaine were both entering the reception hall when they came across each other again. 

“Hey,” Kurt said with a tight grin. “You went outside?”

“Wanted some fresh air. You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Kurt said. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

“Cool. Cake.”

Kurt snorted. “Are you okay?” 

Blaine bit back a sigh. “I’m fine.”


	14. Chapter 14

It was three days after the wedding and Blaine hadn’t heard from Kurt in all that time. It wasn’t too shocking. They’ve had longer period of silences before, and they had spent so much time together that day. After the slow dance, they mostly sat at one of the tables and talked, not about anything too substantial, mostly details about Kurt’s glee friends now that they were in front of Blaine to observe for himself. 

Blaine hadn’t been too anxious to talk to Kurt either. Which sounded backwards, considering three days had passed the slow dance incident and his feelings were not something that only arrived to in the moment. Three days past, and he was still in love. And he didn’t know what he could say to Kurt when it wasn’t that. When it wasn’t that confession and all the other adorations of Kurt he had inside. But the very thought of actually confessing that made he feel like swallowing his tongue. 

On the very surface level of that issue was that he didn’t deal with rejection well. There was more to it, but drenching it all out seemed as impossible as a love confession. 

Blaine had also been minding his own business lately. Warbler practice had eased up after their competition season had ended, so it was no longer an everyday after school activity. That was Blaine’s only structured extracurricular. Dalton’s class load tended to be so much that only the very ambitious tried more. He boxed in the gym in his free time, found a piano and fooled around, but otherwise he had been keeping to himself and his schoolwork. 

He hadn’t really noticed his recent solitude until he ran into Nick and Jeff in the hall one afternoon. 

“Hey, Blaine, we’re having a little party tonight in Nick’s room. Not too big. Got to be sneaky, after all. You in?”

“I don’t know,” Blaine said, shifting between his feet. He liked Jeff and Nick, but something about a party as “small” as they promised it, was unappealing. 

“Come on,” Jeff said. “You’ve been like hiding under a rock lately.”

“And Josh will be there. And Evan. So there’s options…”

Josh and Evan had been two of Blaine’s not so irregular casual hookups in the past. Blaine smiled uneasily. “I’m not really into that anymore.” 

“Oh, well…” the two boys glanced at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. “Come anyway. It’ll be fun.”

Blaine still didn’t want to, but he gave the boys a hesitant “Maybe” so that they would at least be placated for the moment. 

…

Wes sat down across from him in the dining hall. Blaine had been grabbing an early dinner, before the hall got crowded. 

“You’re not going to the party tonight?”

“You are?” Blaine asked in surprised confusion.

“Blaine, I just acceptance letters from my top three schools and have pretty much solidified my spot as valedictorian. I can risk letting loose – or sitting around judging other people letting   
loose – for once.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

Wes gave him one of his know-it-all looks. “I know what you’re doing and why you’re doing. It’s the talk of the town that Blaine Anderson’s gone celibate.”

“What?”

“It’s been a rumor for a while, but you confirmed it earlier with Nick and Jeff. And you know how those two gossip,” Wes said with a dismissive hand way.

“Oh my god,” Blaine said, ducking his forehead into his hand. He didn’t care for being the center of attention when the attention was on his personal life. 

“Look, all I’m saying, you don’t want to hook up anymore, good for you,” Wes said. “But you will you take this next piece of advice from me. I know you haven’t taken any of the advice I’d   
given you about Kurt, so take this… just because you don’t want to be the fooling around type guy anymore, doesn’t mean you have to sequester yourself away from everyone.”

“So,” Blaine said with a raised eyebrow, “You’re telling me to go to the party.”

“I’m telling you to consider going to the party.”

“That you’re going to.”

“Nick and Jeff said it would be small,” Wes said.

“Nick and Jeff don’t know the definition of small,” Blaine retorted. “Remember the guinea pig incident.”

Wes shrugged. “Look, I’ll be around to make sure you don’t anything stupid. You can be around to make sure I do anything stupid.”

Blaine sighed. “You never do anything stupid.”

Wes smirked. “And that’s why you’re my favorite.”

Blaine went to the party. He had fun with some long neglected friends. He gracefully turned down an advance. The next day, he instigated a texting conversation with Kurt. Wes was right, his   
own difficulties shouldn’t result in making himself sequestered away.

…

Kurt hadn’t seen Blaine in person since the wedding, though they had been communicating by phone. He didn’t think too much of it. He couldn’t expect Blaine to be coming around   
Lima all the time just to hang out. It was a long drive, and Dalton was a demanding school. Especially since it was the time of year school work started to take an upswing, halfway through the second semester. Kurt had been busy too. Especially with him being antsy for the coming Nationals. Not that they had started prepping for it yet.

He hadn’t talked to Santana since the wedding either. It wasn’t strange. But he had thought they had a moment, an actual fact friendship moment. Instead of her scolding and/or comforting him, he had returned the favor. Of course, she had always been the one to approach him. Maybe he should return the favor yet again. 

It was a notion that struck him particularly strong when he saw her standing crossed armed by herself on the steps leading down to the outside lunch area. Did she have friends? She was close to Brittany, he knew that, but considering the strife between them at the moment, he doubted that was working out for Santana at the moment. Quinn was probably the next closest person Santana could have to a friend, but Kurt never got strong friendship vibe between them. At best they were allies on the top of the popularity chain; but often rivals. Plus, Kurt was the only person who knew, really knew, Santana’s secret.

So he sucked it up and went over to her instead of down to meet Tina and Mercedes at lunch (they had eased up of late). 

“You alright?” he asked her. 

“Why are you talking to me?” she retorted back gruffly. 

Kurt sighed, agitated. He should’ve expected as much. “Because you look miserable.”

“I’m miserable because of the horrible company.” Santana gave Kurt a pointed look.   
“Jeez, you’ve been helping me out. I’m just trying to help you out too.”

Santana scoffed. “Do you think I did that because I care about you? What a laugh.” 

“Then why did you, trying to get your community service in?”

“It was purely self-interest. That’s the only way to get around this world. And why are talking to me in public?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, trying desperately to seem dismissive. 

“Santana, you’re a dedicated part of the glee club, you can’t pull that whole ‘you’re not cool enough to talk to me’ thing anymore. At all.”

She rolled her eyes, grimaced, then appeared resigned. “Fine,” she shot out harshly. “First it was for the way I could torture you with the information that you were fucking, then you were a lot more depressing about it that I thought and it lost all pleasure. Then I thought if I could fix your relationship problems, I could fix mine. Like a test run. Obviously, didn’t work out for either of us.” She finished her rant and look resolutely away from him. 

“I don’t know, I think you care about me a little bit in there. If you read between the lines.” 

She looked back at Kurt. “I don’t hate you,” she said. “And I hate everybody.”

Kurt was pretty sure that was the best he was going to get her to admit. “You may not have intended it, but you become my friend through all of this. And I’m pretty sure I’ve become yours.” Santana rolled her eyes, but she didn’t look to be scowling so much anymore. “So, thanks. For everything. And… if you need to talk, I can understand a lot of things you’re going through. And the ones I don’t, I can still listen. And I’m not nearly as snarky as you about it.”

He turned to leave, but Santana caught his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. “Kurt…” she sighed like she hated what she was about to say, “I don’t just not hate you. I can even sort of half stand you at times.”

“You don’t know how to actually compliment people, do you?”

“Take what you can get, Hummel.”

…

“You excited about Nationals?”

“Excited. Terrified. I get to go to New York either way.”

“I swear I can hear you smiling as you say that.”

“Blaine…” Bashful. A cough. “Well, it’s still a month off.”

“Yeah, well, you must be in the midst of preparations by now.”

A laugh. “You obvious don’t know our glee club.”

“Right, you guys like to wing it, don’t you?”

“It’s worked so far.”

“It has.”

“We’ve had a fair share of drama, however. Did I ever tell you about Jesse St. James?”

“I think you’ve mentioned him. Doesn’t it have to do with Rachel?”  
“Yeah, the crazy ex who tried to destroy our glee club through the inside out.”

“Who does that? I mean, I love performing, but that’s taking show choir to a whole new level of crazy. And it’s kind of weird to start with.”

“Well, he’s back. And he’s trying to convince Mr. Schue to let him help couch and consult New Directions.”

“And people are falling for that?”

“Rachel already has. She took him as her date to junior prom.”

“… you had junior prom? You didn’t mention that.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t go.”

Sincerely. “Why not?”

A sigh. Maybe even an unseen shrug. “I didn’t want to. I mean, I love the idea of prom, but all my friends had dates, so it’s not like I could go stag with a couple of them for fun. I didn’t   
feel like watching the rest of them all have fun while I was by myself… not.” 

“I would have gone with you…,” ardently, “I mean, as a friend.”

“I didn’t think you’d want to go to a school dance at a homophobic school after what happened before.” Unspoken, implied, Kurt had thought about asking Blaine. 

“Yeah.” Resigned, remembering, realizing. 

“Whatever. There’s always senior prom. That’s more important anyway. Maybe I’ll be able to scrounge up a date by then. Or, more realistically, one of my girl friends won’t have a date and I can take them.”

Neither knew that they shared in that moment an illusion on the backs of their eyelids, as them together, at that prom night. 

…

It was Monday afternoon Warbler practice. Blaine stood from his seat and waited to be called upon by the council to talk.

“I have a performance idea.”

“Go on,” said Wes, intrigued. One, he was always looking for performance ideas as they were no longer competing. Two, Blaine hadn’t mentioned it to him beforehand.

“We should give the McKinley High New Dictions a Bon Voyage – Good Lucky performance before they go off to Nationals.”

“But why?” asked David. “We’ve never done such with competition in the past.”

“We haven’t been on such familiar and good terms with any of our competition in the past,” Blaine said.

Wes knew what Blaine was really proposing. Blaine wanted to give this performance for Kurt. 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Wes voiced, getting looks from his fellow councilmen. Wes was a traditionalist after all. “It would reflect well on Dalton and the Warblers for being such good sports. And it’s true, we are on good and familiar terms with New Directions seeing as we competed amicably against them twice in one competition season. We should show our support.”

“I have no objections,” David said. “Let’s take a vote.” The Warblers as a whole generally agreed to the idea. Preparations began.

…

A text from Blaine: “You’re in choir practice now, right?”

Kurt’s text back: “Yes. Why?”

Blaine’s text: “You’ll see. ;)”

Five minutes later there was a knock on the door frame in announcement, then the entire Warbler glee club streamed into the room. Kurt’s jaw dropped. Santana glanced at him. 

“Can I help you?” asked Mr. Schue, sounding part confused and part suspicious and altogether oblivious. 

“We just wanted to wish you guys good luck at Nationals. We know you’re leaving this Friday,” Blaine said, standing before the group of Warblers, hands clutched in front of himself. “So we prepared a little number for you all.” 

The Warblers shifted into formation and started up a number: Stand by Lenny Kravitz. 

It was charming and sweet, and Blaine threw more than one glance and grin Kurt’s way, resulting in Kurt smiling back. It seemed all the glee club was charmed, including the skeptical   
Rachel. When they finished their number, New Directions applauded. The rest of glee practice was blown by them intermingling and chatting with the Warblers, but it really hadn’t been going anywhere anyway. It was the sweetest thing Blaine had done, because Blaine hadn’t done it just for Kurt. He did it for Kurt’s friends too. 

…

The New Directions when to New York to their Nationals competition, where Rachel and Finn’s relationship drama had taken center stage, literally. They had made out on stage to the stunned silence of the crowd. New Directions didn’t make it to the second round of competitions. They didn’t make to the finales. They were devastated and angry and Santana was yelling in Spanish…

“I mean, on the plane ride home it was completely silent, like no one said a word. We just sat there with our faces buried in our complimentary issues of SkyMall.” Kurt told the whole story to Blaine over coffee. 

“Wait a second… I don’t get it,” Blaine said. He had listened fascinated to Kurt’s tale of New York. A tale he told with his wit and his melodious voice. It was the best way Blaine could think   
to spend the day. “You don’t seem that sad at all.”

“It was still amazing,” Kurt said with a shrug. “I mean, I flew in a plane for the first time in my life, I was in New York! City of my dreams.” 

He was just so passionate, Kurt was. And amazing. And Blaine was sure if Kurt had a solo at Nationals they would have gone on to the finals, but he would keep that opinion to himself,   
because it might’ve been a little biased. It had been too long since he had gotten to bask in Kurt’s presence, period. He was consumed by it, and he couldn’t help but think, I love you. “I love you.”


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt burned his throat as he swallowed that sip of coffee he had just taken so fast. He couldn’t have heard Blaine right, the boy who was sitting across from him with this look of adoration on his face, his eyes almost literally sparkling as they looked at Kurt.

“What?” Kurt said, voice high and airy. 

Blaine’s face sobered slightly. “Did I just say that out loud?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Kurt said with a jerky nod. 

“Oh.” Blaine looked to the side then back to Kurt.

“You love me?” Kurt asked. His heart was pounding so fast. This couldn’t be   
real. “Like love me love me?”

Kurt could see Blaine swallow, nervously he supposed. “Yes,” Blaine said, “Absolutely and completely.” 

Kurt put a hand to his mouth. This was real. This wasn’t a dream. He must have been silent for a longer time than he thought, for Blaine started to apologize, “I didn’t mean to make things awkw—,”

“Dammit, Blaine,” Kurt said loudly, dropping that hand hard upon the table. They got a glare from the barista. Kurt lowered his voice to normal conversation level as he said, “I’ve been falling in love with you since the moment I met you.”

It was Blaine’s turn to be stunned. “Since the day we met?” he asked incredulously, when he gathered his senses enough to ask at all.

“Come on, Blaine.” Kurt was almost bashful. “You’re kind of amazing.” 

Blaine cleared his throat. Kurt was staring at the tabletop. Blaine shifted in his seat. He was sure that two people mutually admitting love for the other shouldn’t be a little more joyous in its result. Of course, this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. 

“Is there somewhere more private we can go to talk?” Blaine asked. 

Kurt thought for a moment. “My car.”

“Let’s go.” The two vacated their table and it was quickly snatched up by another couple who was waiting for one. A giggly, handing-hands couple. Kurt found them obnoxious, but that was only because it was have been better than the tension he was feeling in the moment with Blaine – who loved him! 

It was all he wanted, Blaine to love him like Kurt loved Blaine first. But everything wasn’t suddenly fixed by Blaine’s confession. Kurt didn’t know where they would go from here. 

They got in his car, and Kurt started to drive. “I don’t know where I’m going,” he admitted after pulling onto the road from the parking lot. Blaine made a noise of understanding and was silent. The parking lot had still not been private enough, and Kurt might have been delaying the conversation for not knowing what to say next. 

He ended up in his neighborhood, and pulled into his driveway. 

“Your house?” Blaine questioned.

“We’re staying in the car,” Kurt said. He didn’t know why exactly he needed   
this concession, but he did. (If they went into the house, they would go into his bedroom, and if they went into his bedroom, well… )

“That’s fine,” Blaine said, and that was all he said. 

Kurt started out the windshield for a minute, Blaine doing the same, neither talking.

“When did you—,” Kurt started. He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“When did I fall in love with you?” Blaine said. “Is that the question you were going to ask?”

Kurt sighed. “Yeah.”

All this must’ve moved Blaine to be bold, for he reached across the console and took Kurt’s hand – still on the steering wheel – and squeezed. “I don’t know exactly… I had feelings for you for a while that I wasn’t willing to admit to.”

“Nice,” Kurt scoffed.

“It’s wasn’t because of you I wasn’t admitting it. It was me.”

Kurt laughed a single, humorless laugh. “The old classic.”

“Well, in this case, it’s true.”

Kurt shrugged; Blaine took that as a ‘go on.’

“I knew I had feelings for you after Breadstix that one time. I should’ve known before then. After we stopped, I was devastated. That I couldn’t be with you. Be near you. Talk to you. Hear you laugh, see you smile. That was the best part of my life.”

Kurt was looking at him now with soft eyes, and not looking away. 

“And then,” Blaine continued, not looking away from Kurt either, “When you slow danced at the wedding,… it was a moment for me, like ‘oh, there you are.’” 

Kurt blinked long, carefully, and Blaine couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Can I –?” He leaned in, and Kurt met him halfway, 

The two have had sexier kisses, more daring kisses, longer kisses, but they hadn’t ever had a kiss like this.

“Wow,” Blaine breathed when they had stopped. “I’ve never kissed someone   
I was in love with before.”

Kurt smiled one of his real smiles, ones that changed his whole face. “I’ve never been kissed by someone who was in love with me before,” he said back. He had kissed Blaine plenty of times while in love with him, but this was completely different. “We still have a lot to talk about, though,” Kurt said.

“I know. I know. Let’s get talking.”

…

They did talk. They had a long conversation filled with confessions (“Part of the reason why I broke up with you was because I loved you. Mixing that with a no strings relationship was just horrible.”), admittances (“You know, before you broke it off with me, I was going to apologize for sleeping with that other guy. I didn’t want to think I had done anything wrong, but I could tell how hurt you were and I hated that I caused that.” “That was the last straw for me, honestly. I thought we had a connection. We did, but I didn’t could swallow the thought of being with you while you were being with other guys.” “It was just that once.” “What?” “It was just that one guy that one time. Even though it was no strings, I was only being with you, except that one time.” “Oh… not even since…?” “Not even since.”), and discoveries (“I did try to tell you I liked you. Remember before Sectionals when I said I liked you and you said that you thought of me as a friend too? “Oh. Ooh. I was kind of oblivious, huh?” “Very oblivious”).

It was easily the best conversation they ever had, because neither of them were hiding anything anymore. They had both acknowledged their feelings to themselves and to each other. Now they could map out all their history, their mistakes, and their misunderstandings. It was awfully revealing, but also healing. 

After anything they could think to hash up and discuss had been so, Kurt said,   
“We have to figure out how this is going to work.”

“Us?” Blaine asked, though it was obvious.

Kurt nodded. “We can’t just fall back into what we were doing before. First, we’ll   
probably just end up with the same problems.”

“And second?” Blaine said.

“It’s not what I want. I want a boyfriend, Blaine.”

“Okay.”

“And it’s not that I didn’t enjoy having sex with you or, ah,” Kurt was going a little pink as he said it. He shouldn’t be getting embarrassed over this topic in front of Blaine of all people, but when he managed to glance over, Blaine might’ve looked a bit pink too. “Didn’t want to not do it again sometime, but… I need more than that.”

“I understand,” Blaine said. “And I have one question for you.”

“Yes?” Kurt said, maybe a little nervous at what it could be, or that is could be an   
ending already.

“Kurt Hummel, will you be my boyfriend?” 

“Blaine!”

“We could go out on a proper date,” Blaine said, “Maybe dinner and a movie. Or   
we can see if there are any community theaters putting on some good shows. 

You can dress up. I’ll be charming all evening. Maybe end the night with a kiss.”

Kurt laughed. “How could I turn down that? You paying?”

“Kurt!”

“Yes, Blaine Anderson, I will be your boyfriend.”

…

It was a little hard getting Burt by himself with their newly integrated   
Hummel-Hudson family. Kurt finally managed to Thursday, the day before his planned Friday night date with Blaine. 

“Dad, I need you to sit down for a minute.”

That got his father suspicious. “What is it?” Burt gruffed, decidedly not sitting.

“Please sit,” Kurt said, less calm and assured this time. 

Burt acquiesced this time, huffily taking a seat in his armchair in the living room. Kurt remained standing; it made this easier.

“What is it?” Burt repeated. 

Kurt curled his hands around each other. “You know Blaine?” This wasn’t the perfect speech Kurt had imagined himself giving.

“I do,” Burt said, though he didn’t sound pleased by this fact. 

“Well,” Kurt said, “He and I… the two of us… are not, sort of…”

“Kurt?”

A resigned sigh. Say it and deal with the explosion. There was no way for this situation to be diffusible. 

“Dating,” Kurt said. 

Burt was quiet for a moment. Kurt waited, but figured if his father didn’t say something soon, he would slip away and pretend this all counted as 100% absolute approval.

“Dating?” Burt said. Nothing more. “Since when?”

“This past Saturday, we talked and decided to try and give it a go. And   
tomorrow night is our first date.” 

“I thought you were just friends!”

“We were,” Kurt said. “We really were. And I know the course of our relationship wasn’t exactly traditional. And we plan to take it slow, so we can figure us out, so don’t worry about that. But we both have feelings for each other. We both love each other, and how could we not give that a chance.”

Burt cleared his throat. “Love?”

Kurt hadn’t realized he had used that. It wasn’t something he was hiding intentionally, but it was big and personal and he liked holding onto it just for himself for a little while. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face at the very thought. He was in love and was loved back. It was too elating to try and keep a straight face. “Yes,” Kurt said. “Love.”

“I saw that kid make you cry like nothing else, and I wanted to hate him for it. But now he’s making you smile in a way I haven’t seen since before your mom…,” Burt’s voice was choked with emotion, “Well, for a long, long time.” 

“He does make me happy, Dad,” Kurt said. 

“I’ll have to meet him, you know?” Burt said. “I didn’t at the wedding.”

“He’s coming to pick me up here tomorrow night, so maybe then,” Kurt   
proposed. Then added, “Briefly.” 

Burt chuckled. “I promise not to clean a shotgun in front of him or anything   
like that.”

…

“Meeting your dad, who knows all of our history. Woah, this will be rough. I thought I caught a lucky break when we didn’t interact at the wedding.”

“I thought you were busy falling in love with me at the wedding,” Kurt teased.

“I was,” Blaine said, “But self preservation is a pretty strong instinct.”

Kurt hmmed. “When are you going to get here?”

“Half hour?”

“See you then.”

The time slid by surprisingly fast, for not long later the doorbell was ringing and Kurt was running down the stairs. He wanted to answer the door. He was out of breath, but he got there first. Burt gave Kurt a raised eyebrow look from the living room. 

Kurt took a calming breathe, and opened the door. There stood Blaine, looking adorable in a bowtie. 

“Hey,” Kurt said, suddenly not sure how to do this, or anything, including move.

“Hey,” Blaine repeated back. He seemed just as dazed.

Burt cleared his throat loudly, making both the boys jump. He had snuck up   
behind Kurt without his son noticing. 

“Oh, um, Dad this is Blaine,” Kurt said with an unnecessary sweeping hand motion. “And Blaine, this is my dad.”

Blaine seemed to have mentally prepared himself for this in the last half hour of his drive, for he steadied himself, stuck out a hand, and said, “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Hummel. Kurt’s told me a lot of good things about you.”

“He’s mentioned you,” Burt said back.

“Dad,” Kurt groaned into his hand. His dad promised not to clean a shot gun, but he didn’t promise not to glare. Of course, Burt was losing steam. When Blaine was the worst type of monster in his head – a teenage boy that had sex with his only child and thusly broke his only child’s heart – it was easy to work up a proper loathing. But Blaine in person – a short guy wearing a god’s honest checker print bowtie and with heavily gelled with a strict part – was something else entirely. Something distinctly less threatening and more preppy. 

Blaine looked sufficiently intimidated. Kurt looked sufficiently embarrassed and horrified. Burt’s work was done and he eased up. 

“Have a good time. Back by curfew, Kurt.”

…

As first dates go, it was a good one. Both were unduly nervous for two people who knew the other loved them, but they were both also undeniably happy. It could have thunder-stormed, and they could have gotten a flat tire, and they could have gotten there food cold at the restaurant, and yet those two would have remember that night fondly. None of those things happened, though. The date night went smoothly and normally. They held hands in the darkness of the movie theater. They talked and laughed at dinner afterwards. They kissed chastely in the porch light fifteen minutes before Kurt’s curfew was up. Kurt promised to call him tomorrow.


	16. Chapter 16

“It’s nice seeing Dalton not as a spy,” Kurt said as he walked the hall hand-in-hand with Blaine. 

“You’ve been here as not a spy,” Blaine protested.

“I’ve been in your dorm as not a spy,” Kurt said back. “Not the rest of it.” 

“Well, the weekend before finals week is sure going to be an exciting time to visit. There’s sure to be a breakdown or two.”

“is it okay I’m here? I don’t want to distract you from your studying,” Kurt said, concerned. 

“If I didn’t get to see you this weekend, I would have more trouble concentrating. I won’t be able to see you until next Friday, and that thought drives me mad already.”

Kurt smiled as the adamancy of Blaine’s statement. There was something so sweet about being missed. Because ultimately, being missed was being wanted. Kurt had spent many years feeling decidedly unwanted. 

The two of them walked a little longer. The halls were mostly empty and very quiet. The weekend before finals saw most students tucked away in the library or their own rooms. Kurt and Blaine didn’t need to fill every moment with words. In fact, they were very content to be able to stroll hand-in-hand. They weren’t comfortable everywhere to do that. 

“Do you know what’s around this corner?” Blaine asked after a little while. 

“…No?” Kurt answered. 

Blaine smiled, and Kurt could tell it was full of mischief. He tugged Kurt off their course and around that very corner he had been indicating to. 

“Know now?” Blaine asked.

“Another hallway?” Kurt retorted. 

“Need a hint?” Blaine said.

Kurt raised an ‘if you insist’ eyebrow. It was hard to be properly sarcastic when Blaine was always giddy. 

Blaine swooped in and pressed a perfect little kiss to Kurt’s mouth. 

Kurt blinked open the eyes he hadn’t realized he closed. “Oh,” he said.

“Figured it out?”

“This is where he had our first kiss,” Kurt said. “I remember, because I couldn’t believe this really cute guy was kissing me.” 

Blaine bit his bottom lip before saying, “And now here we are.”

“Here we are,” Kurt repeated softly. He then took the lead to kiss Blaine back, their lips moving against each other as they pulled their bodies close together. Kurt wrapped his arms   
around Blaine’s shoulder and –

A cleared throat. They broke apart. There, down that very hallway, was standing Wes. 

“Wes, we were just coming to meet you,” Blaine said, though he was still half-wrapped around his boyfriend. 

“I’m sure,” said Wes dryly. 

Kurt completely disentangled from Blaine. “It’s nice to actually officially meet you,” Kurt said, totally pretending he had not been just been walked in on. 

“It’s all good to meet you to,” Wes said, all proper, private school boy now, approaching to shake Kurt’s hand. “I have definitely heard enough of Blaine pining over you by now.”

“Wes!”

“I hope you two are obnoxiously cute together for a very long time, because I’ve definitely earned that, after all I’ve been through for you two.”

Blaine groaned. Wes was like a parent with the single goal to embarrass. 

“Is this actually happening?” Kurt whispered to Blaine. 

“Yes, regretfully.” 

…

“Enough with the pretense, Kurt. You said you had something to tell us,” Tina challenged. The trio – Tina, Mercedes, and Kurt – were having a “it’s finally summer break” celebratory date at Breadstix. They had already gone through one basket of complimentary breadsticks and were on their way through a second. The breadsticks weren’t great, but they were free, and they were teenagers with unlimited appetites and limited budgets. 

Of course, Kurt had teased them that he had a big announcement to make to them before they had come. Now the girls couldn’t concentrate on anything else. 

“Good things come to those who wait,” Kurt said. He checked his phone under the table.

“Now you’re just being cruel,” pouted Tina.

“I swear, Kurt, if you’re riling us up for nothing…” Mercedes threatened.

“It’s good. I promise,” Kurt said, biting back a smile that was half mischief, half joy. 

An appetizer plate they were sharing arrived, and half a minute later, so did Blaine. 

“You look lovely today, ladies,” he said, sliding into the bench seat next to Kurt, Kurt moving over seamlessly for him. 

The two girls looked at each other and to the boys sitting across from them. Kurt and Blaine interlaced her fingers of their hands and placed the clutched-together fists on the tabletop.   
Watching his two friends’ expressions was definitely worth the planning Kurt put into this reveal.

“Finally!” Tina said, pumping a fist in the air and earning the glares of the nearby patrons. 

“Sine when?” Mercedes demanded.

“Since after we got back from Nationals,” Kurt answered.

“But you two have had intensive sexual tension for a lot longer than that,” Tina said, not as an accusation, but merely a comment. 

Kurt and Blaine glanced at each other. Blaine shrugged, like, ‘well, yeah.’

“Do you mind if I join you all for lunch?” Blaine asked, all polite.

“You better,” Mercedes said. “We need details.” Tina nodded along in agreement.

“And while we’re at it,” Kurt said, propping his chin up with his free hand, “What’s going on exactly between you and Sam?”

“Yes, Mercedes,” Tina said, instantly intrigued, “What?”

“That is a cruel trick to play, Kurt Hummel. Don’t try and divert attention.”

…

They had a summer romance, Kurt and Blaine. When not rooming at Dalton, Blaine lived significantly closer to Kurt. They spent quite a bit of time together as a result. Kurt met Blaine’s friends, and Blaine met (or re-met) Kurt’s. 

Santana didn’t say anything to either of them directly, just rolled her eyes whenever they were in her presence together. Although, she didn’t seem unpleased. In fact, Kurt had noted that she and Brittany had been spending more time together and had generally been more touchy-feely as of late. He took that as a good sign. It was always good when Santana wasn’t snapping at people, but beyond that… Kurt was happy for her. They didn’t have to say anything to each other about it. They had shared in their similar, yet distinctive pains, and had both come out of it. That was what they shared. They might still have more to share, living in this town, being different, being gay, and when it did, Kurt would be there to support her and was positive she would do the same for him. For now, though, they could live their own happy lives, just orbiting about a similar social group. 

Blaine grew on Burt, even with Burt’s hesitance. Yes, Blaine had made a redeemable impression on his father the night of the first date, but there was still a lot of trust and respect to be earned there. But once one saw that Blaine’s politeness and charm were less acts and more his general disposition, it was hard not to like him. Blaine helped Carole clear the table the evenings he stayed for dinner, for goodness stake. Finn didn’t even do that unless specifically coerced. 

Sure, it had been awkward the time Burt walked in on the young couple making out. It could have been worse though. Kurt and Blaine had been completely vertical when it occurred. In Kurt’s bedroom, but standing, and well away from the bed (Blaine wouldn’t even sit on Kurt’s bed any of the few times he had been in Kurt’s bedroom since they had begun dating again). Yet, tongues were done throats, and hands were done back pants pockets.   
They had left the bedroom door open. Kurt had only ushered Blaine upstairs to show him some of his new clothing purchases from a trip with the girls to Columbus. There had been no other designs. All Kurt wanted beyond that was to steal a kiss where there were no prying eyes. It progressed further than that. Kurt and Blaine had been so absorbed that they hadn’t noticed Burt walking by in the hall. Burt had been too stunned by it to speak up at first. Thus, he got an eyeful, and the two boys were eternally embarrassed.  
Later, Burt tried to give Kurt the sex talk, again, but Kurt cut him off early with a “we’re not… we’re not.”  
Burt looked skeptical, but really, all it had been was an intense, fully clothed, fully upright kiss. It could have been so worse. And anyway, how worse could it get. Kurt had already had sex with this boy. That ship was well past.

It was true. Kurt and Blaine weren’t having sex. They were up to the point of doing almost everything but sex. Clothes were on all the time, and no one got off, but their was an intense intimacy of the closeness regardless. They could appreciate the kissing and light touches and the embraces without them having to be a prelude to anything unless. They were understood compassion in and of themselves. 

…

Kurt hadn’t expected to come downstairs to find Finn, Puck, and Blaine playing a video game intensely in the living room. It wasn’t unusual when this scene contained Finn with sometimes Puck.

“What?” he asked as he entered the room completely.

Blaine glanced briefly up at him, giving him a grin, but then his eyes and attention when quickly back to the big screen.

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine said.

Finn grunted. Kurt figured that might have been in greeting.

“Hey, Hummel, your boy’s actually pretty good at this,” Puck said. Something exploded on the screen and Puck swore viciously.

“My boy?” Kurt questioned the terminology. He guessed if he cared about Puck’s approval, this how scene would mean something. He really didn’t care about Puck’s anything. 

“Better than you,” Blaine said to Puck. His fingers are jabbing at the buttons of the controller. Although Kurt was being ignored by the boyfriend he was supposed to be going on a date with, and although he wouldn’t understand the allure of video games if his life depended on it, Blaine did look very cute with his tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth in concentration. 

“Those be fighting words,” Puck said back. Finn grunted again, perhaps in agreement. 

Kurt sat down on the arm of the couch. “How long is this going to take?” he asked with a sigh. 

“We’re halfway through this level,” Blaine said, although this gives Kurt no time estimate at all. 

“You were the one taking so long getting ready that we had to take pity on this man here and invite him to play,” Puck added. He sounded like he wanted to add a derisive nickname to all of   
this, but remembered he was supposed to be nice now and, thus, didn’t.

There was a truth to that though. He had left Blaine abandoned downstairs, but he was really anxious to incorporate his new blazer into his outfit for the night, and that took some fine tune fashion balancing. No matter, he didn’t want his date night to evaporate into video game time. He had heard horror stories from some of the girls before about very such things occurring. 

Kurt, however, had a plan. He leaned down close to Blaine’s ear and whispered. “You know, Blaine, we already lost time because of my fashion emergency, and if we waste anymore we won’t have time to make out in the backseat of my car after dinner.”

That got Blaine abandoning the controller.

“Sorry, guys, gotta go,” Blaine said somewhat urgently. Kurt smirked in victory. As they were walking out the door, Puck made the “whipped” noise and gesture. Blaine either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

…

It was a girl’s night. Well, a two girls plus Kurt night. They was more time for them in the summer than the school year. And Kurt was no longer sneaking off to see Blaine every night. He   
got to see Blaine openly on most days now.

“So,” Tina said, plopping down on the bed after they finished their first movie musical viewing. “Mike and I slept together.”

Kurt barely avoided a spite take. Damn people giving him big news right as he took a drink. 

“I was wondering if you two were…” Mercedes said, making an expression rather than saying the words. 

“It’s new, obviously,” Tina said. “We talked about it, we love each other, and it was perfect.” She sighed and tilted her head back on the mattress.

“Well, congrats,” Kurt said, quite genuine.

“Congrats?” Tina questioned the response.

“What do you want me to say? You’re a woman now.” Kurt said back, kicking Tina’s shoulder lightly with his socked foot. “And it is congrats… I’ve seen Mike’s abs,” he teased.

Tina moaned in appreciative agreement. “His ab.”

Mercedes nodded, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts. Kurt thought it was probably about Sam’s abs. Kurt had seen those as well, and they were worthy getting lost in thought   
about. Well, before he knew Blaine.

“What about you two?” Tina asked, moving to sit up against the headboard next to Kurt. 

“What about us?” Mercedes said back. 

Tina raised an eyebrow at her. Mercedes was still not admitting to her and Sam being an item, even though Tina and Kurt (and probably others) knew it was going on. Their secrecy   
made little to no sense, but Kurt guessed made they were having a clandestine romance for the romance of it, perhaps. Mercedes just flipped idly through a magazine, ignoring her friends’   
critical looks. 

Mercedes’ stubbornness won out, for Tina turned her attention exclusively to Kurt. “Well, what about you and Blaine, Kurt?”

“What about us?” 

“Don’t you play this game with me too!”

“Yeah, Kurt,” Mercedes chimed in, probably glad the inquisition was no longer focused on her, “What’s going on with you and Blaine?”

“I hate you both.”

“Come on, I’ve see his tushy in those tight pants he wears… so congrats to you too,” Tina said.

Kurt hid his face in his hands. “Oh my God.”

“And we’ve both seen Kurt’s tushy in his tight pants,” Mercedes added. “So congrats to Blaine as well.”

Kurt turned pink. Both girls cackled. Why was his life so cruel?

Tina lightly pulled down one of the arms Kurt was hiding behind. “We’re done teasing. We’re done,” she promised. “But seriously, where are you two on the intimacy scale?”

“If you don’t mind sharing,” Mercedes added for the both of them.

“We’re taking our time,” Kurt said, because he honestly couldn’t say they hadn’t had sex, only that they weren’t having sex currently. 

Tina hmmed and the two girls shared significant looks. 

“What?” Kurt questioned.

“It’s just… we assumed you two were further along.”

“Do you two think a lot about my sex life?” Kurt said. The silence following did not do much to assuage his concern.

“We just want you to be happy,” Mercedes said, trying to explain.

Tina patted his knee. “In all aspects.”

“And why, pray tell, did you think we were further long?” Kurt asked, knowing he probably wouldn’t like the answer. Chances were, it be really embarrassing or really revealing. But these   
two were his friends. They noticed a lot, and he had been keeping them at a distance since Blaine had come into his life, way back near the beginning of the school year. He had so many secrets. 

Tina contemplated for a moment before saying, “There is just a certain way you two are around each other that reeks of ‘we’ve been completely emotionally and physically vulnerable with each other and have nothing to hide’.”

“Oh,” Kurt said. It was very accurate. 

“Sounds like there is a lot behind that oh,” Mercedes said. 

“You don’t exactly get to talk about hiding things, Mercedes,” Kurt snapped lightly, but then he sunk back in on himself. “But then again, neither do I. I’ve been hiding a lot from you two, my best girls, for a while now.”

Both Tina and Mercedes were quiet. They could tell, they all could tell, things had moved into a more serious place. Kurt was inspired, though, in that moment, to come clean. Not having to hold anymore secrets and negotiate the truths and alibis in front of two of his good friends seemed so favorable. It was something he owed, owed to himself, so that the less than ideal past he had with Blaine could truly be a past. It no longer had to be a dirty secret to people he trusted.

“I want to tell you girls something… about me and Blaine, but promise to keep it between us. This isn’t gossip mill stuff… though I’m not sure many people at McKinley care about my personal life.”

They promised, both of them quite earnest. Mercedes got up from the end of the bed and sat on Kurt’s other side. Kurt told them how he and Blaine met, and slept together, broke   
apart, became friends, fell in love, and came back together – starting over. 

The girls listened and sympathized with his pain and rejoiced with his triumphs. He felt closer to them then he had in ages. He knew full-heartedly that they wouldn’t betray his trust. It felt like the finale nail was in the coffin of moving on from the hurts of the past and into what the present was and what the future could be.


	17. Chapter 17

The new school year snuck up on them after many weeks of building and exploring their budding relationship outside the confines of school schedules. Blaine was returning to Dalton and Kurt to McKinley. It would be nice to have gone to the same school, but it wasn’t a possibility. Their time together would be restricted back to evenings and weekends. That didn’t seem too bad, but realistically, they both knew that homework and clubs and other school-related obligations would make it impossible to visit each other as much as they wanted. 

“How’s the first day of school treating you?” Kurt texted his boyfriend under the table at lunch. They had already compared schedules and even though the two schools ran on different type of block schedules for classes, their lunch breaks – save for a five minutes misalignment – mostly coincided.

Blaine’s response came naught but a few minutes later. “Pretty good. Already have tons of homework. And already missing you. x” 

“Missing you too. x”

“Now the Warblers are teasing me about my apparent heart-eyes as I text you, whatever that means.”

Kurt knew exactly what these Warblers meant by Blaine’s heart-eyes, even if Kurt had never termed them that before. Blaine sometimes had this way of looking at him that was both soft yet incredibly intense, like he was seeing all of Kurt in one moment and there was nothing he didn’t treasure.

“I know what they mean,” Kurt texted back, quickly followed up by, “Call me after school?”

“Warbler’s practice after school. :(“

“After that. I have glee practice too.”

“Okay. Warn you though, there are a lot of new students auditioning because it’s the first day, so it’s going to run long. Not sure how long.”

“Well, whenever you can. I miss your voice.”

“Love you. Talk later, promise.”

“Love you too.”

… 

Mr. Schue was stashing purple pianos around the school, apparently, but Kurt couldn’t really work up a proper eye roll at the idea. He missed Blaine, and he knew it was kind of pathetic,   
considering that they had seen each other the day before. It was beyond that Blaine was his boyfriend. Blaine had become his best friend too. Kurt had a whole backlog of pithy commentary about his first day at school that only Blaine would truly appreciate hearing.  
Dalton had a very strict cell phones policy, so it wasn’t like Kurt could text them. Dalton students were only allowed to use their cell phones during lunch or free periods, otherwise, once the bell rung starting the day, they better be off, even in the hallway, until the bell rang ending the day. And, of course, Blaine had too much respect for being s Warbler to pay mind to his phone during practice.   
So Kurt sighed and waited. Mr. Schue was always full of weird ideas when it came to the beginning of the year. Of course, Mr. Schue seemed to have a different weird idea for the glee club every week. There was little consistency. But it was glee, and it was the highlight of his day, really, even as he missed Blaine.

…

Warbler practice was indeed long. They held open auditions at the beginning of each term, as mandated by the rules of the school. Any club, organization, or sport that had membership based on auditions or try-outs had to allow every Dalton student to be able to give it a shot. However, the organizations could set their own parameters as long as they followed that rule. The Warblers did their open auditions twice a year, and otherwise auditions were by invitation only. It was no good having to rearrange footwork and music for a possible constant influx of potential new members. 

There were a lot of freshman, as always. Of them, there were a few amazing talents, a good few horrible, and many in the middle, needing some training and practice before they would be up to Warblers-level refinement. In that case, they could always join the Dalton choral – conducted by the music teacher –, which performed more traditional music, and try again another year. Many of the upperclassman who were auditioning fit into that demographic. Of course, there was also possible transfer students too. 

It’s after the long auditioning process that Blaine was approached by one of the young men who had auditioned earlier.

“How do you think I did?” the young man asked, although he wore a confident smirk on his face that very well meant he knew how well he had did. 

“You did great,” Blaine said. The rest of the Warblers and the Warbler-wannabes streamed around where the two of them had stopped to talk in the hallway. They were probably all anxious to get to dinner. “I know the result list won’t be posted until Wednesday, but I’m confidant you’ll get in… You’re new at Dalton. Are you a freshman?”

The young man raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a freshman?”

Blaine laughed uneasily. It could have been a completely innocent, challenging question, however, it was all in how it was spoken. With the dare in this one’s tone, with the gleam in his eye… was this guy flirting with him?

Blaine wasn’t naive about these things. He was once, but not after he dived so quickly into the world of fast, casual sex as a coping mechanism. He had been an amateur at negotiating who was just being nice, and who was flirting, and exactly what the implications were in each flirt. How he responded now was crucial. He didn’t want to be rude. He was never rude. Especially in case he was wrong in his assumption. But he didn’t want to lead anyone on either. 

“Transfer then?” he asked lightly and politely, choosing to ignore the potential flirt and follow along the line of conversation instead.

The young man’s smirk lost some of its smirky-ness but didn’t completely leave his face. 

 

“Yes, actually,” the young man said, extending a hand, “Sebastian Smyth. Junior.”

Blaine shook his hand briefly and then left go. “Blaine Anderson. Also junior.”

“I know,” this Sebastian said. 

Blaine must have looked puzzled for Sebastian explained without prompting. “I looked up the Warblers before I came here. Saw some of your old performances online. You’ve quite the   
stage presence.” 

“Thank… you.” There was no obvious innuendo in those words, but Blaine wasn’t sure where this was going. They were now very alone in the hallway. 

“You headed to dinner?” Sebastian then asked. 

What Blaine really wanted was sneak away and call Kurt as he had promised, but his stomach was also beginning to cramp in hunger. 

“I was just wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the Warblers and Dalton, because I’m new to it all.”

Blaine couldn’t very well deny a request of a new student who was curious about his school. It would be un-gentlemanly. And plus, he needed to eat, and really, Sebastian seemed to   
just be a new student trying to make connections. Some people just came across as flirty. Jeff flirted with everyone and all in good fun. It was a harmless request to indulge Sebastian now. He   
would call Kurt after.

…

“It’s late,” was the first thing Kurt said when Blaine finally called him that evening. 

“Sorry, sorry. There was this new kid who had a lot of questions about Dalton, so I was helping him out,” Blaine replied.

“I would expect nothing less from you,” Kurt said, not the least upset. “Good day?”

“Crazy busy, but good, yeah… Talking to you right now is a highlight.”

“It better be,” Kurt teased. He sprawled out on his bed. “I forgot how far away Dalton was,” he said with resignation.

“Summer spoiled us,” Blaine said. “I’ll be home right after Warbler practice on Friday. We’ll see each other then, and Saturday, and Sunday… though at least one of those days we’ll have to be doing homework and not kissing under the pretense of doing homework.”

“That’s still a week away,” Kurt whined. “And we’ll see if I can keep my hands off you…”

“Kurt…”

“Am I making you blush?” Kurt inquired, pretty sure and pretty coy.

“…Yes,” Blaine answered in a whisper.

“Good,” Kurt said. For all the times Blaine had make Kurt blush, or his stomach knot up in nerves and elation, or his head dizzy with a multitude of feelings... back when it all start and they weren’t yet them, as a couple. “Turnabout is fair play.”

They talked for well over an hour, catching each other up on the rest of the details of their day, bantering, and flirting. It was all so comfortable. It made Kurt think for a long time after they had to hang up about where he was with Blaine in this relationship, and where else he might be ready to take it soon.

…

There was no Warbler practice Tuesday because the Council, now Wes-less, was still conferring over the auditions. Sometimes it was more complicated than just who was good enough   
and who was not. It also involved the balance of altos, tenors, and basses within the group as well. So Blaine tuckered himself down in the library to get some backlogged homework done. 

He was about an hour into his work when a figure slid into a seat across the table from him. He glanced up. It was that Sebastian guy.

“Mind if I sit here, killer?” Sebastian asked in a library appropriate level.

“Um… no. I mean, go ahead. No problem.” He went back to his work and actively tried to make himself less flustered. 

Blaine worked on for about five more minutes when a foot nudged his under the table. Blaine looked up. Sebastian was staring at him intently. 

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday,” he said, not sounding all that sorry, but not sarcastic either. Just confidant and not the way people would speak when they were   
concerned about personal space issues.

“You didn’t,” Blaine said. Blaine wasn’t sure if he himself was lying or not. 

“I just thought it would be good to connect with another gay student,” Sebastian explained.

Blaine’s brow furrowed. How did Sebastian know he was…? Well, it common knowledge around the school and if Sebastian had been looking into the Warblers beforehand, it’s not   
unlikely he would’ve heard that the lead soloist was openly gay. Sebastian’s sudden interest in him the day before made more sense. Blaine understood what it meant to have camaraderie with people in like circumstances.

“Dalton’s a very open and accepting school for that. It’s why I came here,” Blaine said with a reassuring smile. 

Sebastian accepted this was a tight grin, but he sighed a moment later and looked frustrated in a way that Blaine didn’t understand. 

“I have a single,” Sebastian said, with no segue, forcing Blaine to look up from his work yet again. “Dorm, that is.”

“That’s lucky,” Blaine responded. He was still doubled up. “If you prefer that. There are some merits to roommate living I think.” 

“It’s very private,” Sebastian said with a certain emphasis. He seemed very proud of this fact.  
“That can be advantageous for studying.”

“And…” Sebastian lowered his voice. “Other things.”

“…Okay.” 

Sebastian didn’t seem all that pleased with Blaine’s answers, but Sebastian was the one bringing up random topics. 

“Feel free to come by, whenever.” Sebastian got up from the table and left. Blaine was left with the uncomfortable feeling that he missed something.

…

“I need to talk to you about something important this weekend,” Kurt told Blaine during their nightly phone call.

“Should I be worried?”

“No. No, it’s a good thing. But I want to talk about in person… and I don’t want to chicken out, so I’m telling you now that I need to talk to you then.”

“Sound logic.” 

“Don’t tease.”

…

Friday eventually came. Before then, Blaine had more awkward interactions with Sebastian. Kurt had fun with his friends over the course of the week. 

They met in the Lima Bean after their collective glee club practices on Friday. The shared a hug (they didn’t kiss in public) in front of the counter before ordering their coffees. They shared a small, two-person table where they talked, laughed, and held hands while sipping their overpriced coffee. They may have talked on the phone at least briefly every night that week, but that was so incredibly different than seeing someone in person. They both drank the simple sight of each other right on up. In Kurt’s mind, it felt an awful lot like when the first started dating. 

They were there for a while when someone dressed in navy and red entered the same coffee shop. Neither of the boys noticed, too wrapped up in spending time together. But the person that entered – after he had gone to the counter – noticed them, or more specifically, Blaine.

He stopped by the side of their table. 

“Hey, Blaine,” Sebastian said. “Fancy running into you here.”   
Blaine’s head jerked up to see his classmate at the greeting. “Oh, yeah, I actually live not that far from here… you came a long way for a cup of coffee.”

“Well, I’m still trying to find a place in Ohio that compares to when I lived in Paris,” he said with a smarmy smile. 

Blaine laughed, but it was polite and manufactured. “Good luck with that.”

Sebastian glanced at Kurt with probably the equal amount of scrutiny Kurt was giving him. 

“Well, I see your busy with a friend, so I’ll see you at school, okay?” He clapped Blaine on the shoulder as he walked past. He ended up taking a seat at another end of the café.

“Who was that?” Kurt asked, obviously not impressed.

“Just a new Warbler,” Blaine said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“Wait, wait… is that the new guy you were helping out on Monday when you called me late?” Kurt asked.

“Um… yes.”

Kurt scoffed and looked to the side.

“Hold up,” Blaine said. “Kurt, are you jealous?”

“When you said you were helping a new student, I thought it would be a tiny, timid freshman, not…” Kurt made a gesture at the air where Sebastian once had been standing. “And   
considering he was flirting with you—”

“He wasn’t flirting with me!”

Kurt pegged Blaine with a hard ‘really’ look.

Blaine thought about it momentarily. “Oh. Oh… yeah, a lot of what he has said this week makes a lot more sense now.”

“Great,” Kurt said, not pleased.

“Come on, Kurt.”

“No, you come on. How amI not supposed to be jealous. You’re off at an all boy’s school brimming with openly gay boys all wearing dapper uniforms and with perfectly coiffed hair, while I’m   
stuck in straight and closeted public school desert.”

Blaine chuckled at Kurt’s description. He reached across the table and took Kurt’s hand (their hands had come apart over the course of their discussion). “It’s true the Dalton has a good   
handful of openly gay and bisexual students, but I prefer you and your perfect coifed hair and your bold sense of style to any of them. Trust me on that.”

“I do, I do,” Kurt said apologetically. He rubbed at his brown with his free hand. “This week has just felt very long, you know?”

“I know,” Blaine agreed. It had been long. “So how about when we’re done here, we go back to my house and… get reacquainted.”

Kurt smiled. “I’d like that.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Wait, what did you want to talk to me about?”

It was Sunday afternoon and Blaine would be leaving to go back to Dalton within the hour. They were in Blaine’s bedroom, and Kurt was lying on his stomach across Blaine’s neatly made bed while Blaine packed. 

“Oh, right,” Kurt said, some anxiousness in his tone. 

Blaine paused in slipping his school books into his satchel. “What is it?” 

“It’s so much more awkward to actually bring it up than to think about bringing it up,” Kurt said. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “And after Friday, I don’t want it to seem like it was the jealously talking.”

“Oh,” Blaine said. Sebastian had hardly existed in his thoughts all weekend. He wondered now if the interaction with Sebastian at the Lima Bean was bothering Kurt more than he let on. “Just forget Friday, and I will too, and tell me what you wanted to tell me before.”

“Can I ask you a question first?”

“Sure.”

“What do you think about…” Kurt ducked his head, “Sex?”

If possible, Blaine went even more still. “In general?”

“What do you think about sex and you and me and our relationship?” Kurt clarified, twisting his hands in his lap. 

“You didn’t make that question any easier.”

“Blaine!” Kurt scolded. 

Blaine crossed the room and climbed on his knees onto the bed. “I think that,”he said, framing his words carefully as he thought out what he wanted to say, “It was a smart decision for us to take sex off the table for us to build a relationship not based around it.”

Kurt nodded. His eyes were wide as he observed Blaine and took in everything he was saying. “Good answer,” Kurt said. “Keep going.”

Blaine scoff-laughed. “Okay, um… I liked having sex with you in the past,” he said. He pursed his lips as he paused in thought. “And I would definitely like to be with you again in the future… but that’s got to be when we’re both ready and think it’s best for,” Blaine took hold of one of Kurt’s hands and pressed it to his own chest right over his heart. “Us.”

If anything, Kurt’s eyes had only grown wider, but in a delightfully good way. Blaine leaned in close to Kurt’s ear, a vicious smile on his face that Kurt couldn’t see from that angle. 

“And until that day,” Blaine spoke lowly, breathes brushing up against his boyfriend’s ear and neck, “There’s always masturbation.”

A surprised, high-pitched half-squeak, half-laugh escaped from Kurt’s throat, but it was quickly cut off as Blaine pressed a simple kiss to Kurt’s mouth. 

Noses touching, so close their lips brushed as Kurt’s formed his words, Kurt asked in a breathy whisper, “Do you think about me, when you…?”

Another kiss. “Yes,” Blaine whispered. “Is that okay…?”

Kurt’s pressed the kiss this time. “Of course. I, ah, think about you too.” A mutually pressed kiss, but Kurt pulled back first, a little too far for Blaine to easily reinitiate it. “And occasionally Taylor Lautner,” Kurt added.

“Careful, or you’re going to make me the jealous one,” Blaine said. Kurt’s eyes only dared Blaine into that jealousy. 

Blaine tackled Kurt flat-backed onto the bed with a thump of the mattress. For not the first time that day, they made out – hands skimming over the clothed bodies they had missed holding, re-tasting each other’s mouths as if hopeful not too forget them over the next week apart. Both knew they didn’t have much time. Blaine had to finish packing, had to leave for Dalton, so they didn’t spend a long time making out, but they did commit with the little time they had with all their passion.

As they caught their breathes after, laying side-by-side on the bed just staring at each other, Kurt was finally able to say what he wanted to say. 

“I’ll be ready soon.”

Blaine blinked languidly, his mind still in a haze of Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. It took a moment to absorb and then oh.

Kurt smiled at him as he saw the realization come over his boyfriend.

“I needed to know how you felt about it,” Kurt explained. “But that’s what I wanted to tell you. I’ll be ready soon… And I don’t want to plan it or anything. I think when the moment comes, we’ll know.”

“Wow,” Blaine said.

“Yeah?”

“It will be a first for me.”

Kurt gave Blaine a confused look.

“I’ve had plenty of sex,” Blaine said. “I’ve never dated before. I’ve never loved anyone before. I guess I’m saying I’ve never made love to anyone before. And Kurt Hummel, I will love to make love to you.”

Kurt moaned and pushed his head back into the pillow. “Why do you have to go back to Dalton? Why do you have to be so perfect?”

“I’m not perfect,” Blaine said.

Kurt caught his eye. “You’re perfect to me.”

…

Sebastian slammed his books down on the desk in the commons where Blaine had been working on a paper. 

Sufficiently grabbing Blaine’s wide-eyed attention, he slide into the seat   
across from Blaine and leaned in close. 

“Look,” Sebastian said. “I’ve tried subtle, suave, but you’re just not getting the picture, so I’m going to spell it out for you nice and slow. I’m gay, you’re gay. I’m hot, you’re hot. I like casual, no strings sex, and if any of the rumors that I heard when I asked around about you are true, you like no strings, casual sex… So, your room, or mine?”

Blaine raised hand in the air in a plea of pausing the situation. He didn’t even know where to start. 

“Okay,” he finally managed. “The rumors you’ve heard about me… are probably true. But you’ve obviously haven’t heard all the rumors about me, because I don’t do that anymore. I have a boyfriend.”

Sebastian shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

“It does bother me,” Blaine said. 

Sebastian scoffed and shook his head, clearly unpleased with this turn of events. “This sucks. ‘Cause ever since I saw those Warbler videos on youtube, I wanted to get into those uniform pants.”

For all his experience, Blaine got flustered at that. People usually weren’t that blunt. “…Sorry?” he said, not really that sorry.

“Well,” Sebastian said, pushing up from the table to standing. “If you ever change your mind… you know where to find me.”

“I won’t,” Blaine said. 

Sebastian picked up his book, and was halfway to the door when he turned around and added, “The sex must be great if you can suddenly settle for one person.” 

Blaine should have just ignored him, and it might have been over, but instead he said, “That’s not really any of your business.”

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. “Bad sex, then? Or…” a realization dawned on his voice and he spoke then in a mildly horrified whisper, “No sex?”

Blaine got flustered again. He wasn’t embarrassed that he and Kurt   
weren’t sexually involved at the moment, though that soon might change. But Sebastian made him feel… uncomfortable talking about sex, period. Which was so absurdly different to how comfortable and even romantic he had felt discussing the topic with Kurt just a few days earlier. 

Blaine dropped his eyes and looked away. He barely heard the whispered “wow” of Sebastian’s as the boy left.

…

“So, how goes Dalton?” rung Wes voice and face over Skpe.

“It goes,” Blaine said. “Tell me about college. That’s much more exciting.”

“No, really, I want to know how it is at Dalton.”

“…You want me to tell you about the Warblers.”

Wes’ calm façade broke. “David and Thad won’t tell me anything! They say I’m being too helicopter parent.”

“Considering your crazy face right now, I would say I agree with them.”

“You don’t understand,” Wes said, leaning in close, which didn’t have the same desired affect over webcam. “The Warblers was like my child, who nurtured and occasionally disciplined –”

“Okay, this conversation has just turned to the creepy side,” Blaine quipped. 

“Please, Blaine, a Warbler update. I’m begging you.” 

Blaine leaned back in his computer chair, but acquiesced, giving his friend an update on the old ranks and the new members and how they were fitting together pretty well so far. He left out any details about personal incidents with Sebastian. 

Soothed by the news, Wes turned his attention to other things.

“So how are you and Kurt doing?”

“Oh.” Blaine couldn’t help but think back to that conversation on Sunday and how it made him glow warm inside. Not just because it was about sex, but because it was about trust. About moving on from past mistakes. “It’s good.”

“Wow, vague. Considering how many stuff I knew about you two before you were dating.” 

“It’s going good, like I said,” Blaine said, and then because he had been trying so hard before not to mention Sebastian that Sebastian was on the top of his mind, it slipped out. “Despite Sebastian.”

“Sebastian?”

And, of course, Blaine was forced to explain, everything, ad nasuim, because when Wes wanted something, he didn’t let it go.   
And after hearing everything he gave his advice: “Be careful. Romantic entanglements are not good for team unity. Remember the love triangle incident of 2006.”

“And yet you don’t care that I’m dating someone in a glee club we compete against.”

“Internal strife is worse than external strife. Anyway, I trust you and Kurt.”

“That’s… that’s kind of sweet, Wes. Thank you.”

Wes shrugged. “I’m kinda rooting for you guys.”

… 

If Blaine was being honest with himself, he knew Sebastian had been flirting with him all along. He just hadn’t wanted to think that way, so he blocked it out, excused it away. Last school year, the rumors of him “going celibate” had circulated pretty quickly, and the few casual hookups he knew in his school stopped asking. Sebastian had been a brusque reminder of who Blaine used to be. Or at least, used to be like. 

Blaine wasn’t as presumptive to believe that everyone who enjoyed casual sex had deep-seated issues. Maybe “deep-seated issues” was a bit dramatic, but Blaine knew it had been a sort of emotional replacement for him. He was much happier now, with Kurt. 

He was thinking these things as he navigated the hallway to his history class. He took his usual desk, halfway back by the wall with the windows about five minutes early. As the rest of the class filed in, Blaine didn’t notice Sebastian choosing the desk next to him. In fact, Blaine didn’t really notice until the teacher had assigned them some silent reading time – he had been called away to the office for a phone call, meaning it was probably something of a minor emergency – and because it was Dalton, students actually silently read when the teacher wasn’t in the room. 

See, that was when Sebastian reached a leg across the aisle between them to lightly kick Blaine’s chair leg to get attention.

Blaine gave him an inquisitive and slightly annoyed look.

Without any affect, Sebastian whispered, “Was that guy in the Lima Bean your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, though he thought he’d rather ignore Sebastian altogether.

Sebastian had an appraising look on his face. “Really? That’s who you settled for?”

“I didn’t settle,” Blaine protested, maybe too loud, garnering the attention of several nearby classmates. He lowered his voice and told Sebastian emphatically. “I’m in love with him.”

Sebastian scoffed, not caring if he was disturbing his classmates. “You’re in high school.”

“So?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. He seemed amused. Blaine just felt frustrated.

…

“This Sebastian guy is ridiculous.” 

It’s the only text from Blaine Kurt had gotten all day, and even though it wasn’t complimentary of Sebastian, it set Kurt on edge. 

At one point, as he was rereading the text and glaring at his phone, Santana showed up to say, “What’s your issue? You look constipated.”

Irritated, but nonresistant, he told Santana about Sebastian, what little he knew, but the little enough he knew to get him worked up.

“So you’re upset because there’s another guy moving in on your man? Hmm.” She tapped her fingers on her chin. “And Blaine’s not interested? Or so he says?”

“He’s not interested,” Kurt said brusquely. 

“Then there’s only two things you can do. Get over it, which is the boring option. Or make it very clear to who-the-hell-names-there-child-Sebastian that Blaine is yours.”

Kurt quirked up an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

…

“Kurt!”

Warblers practice had just let out, and there Kurt was leaning against the wall in the hallway outside of the commons. Blaine made a b-line directly to him, a look of wonderment on his face.

“What’re you doing here?” 

“No glee today, thought I’d come and surprise you,” Kurt said back. 

And there, in front of all the Warblers that were paying them mind, Blaine kissed him. They didn’t kiss much in public, but Blaine was that happy to see his boyfriend, and Dalton was safe. So far, in Kurt’s opinion, things were going well.

Blaine drew back and mumbled, barely sheepishly, “You look, um, really good.” 

Dressing “sexy” had been one of Santana’s tips. Kurt, who was used to dressing fashionable rather than sexy, had been unclear how to do this. Santana had obliged, “There are two rules to dressing sexy. One, tight. Two, skin. Girls’ clothes do have an advantage here, but I’ve seen your skinny jeans. Just no fru-fru sweaters and leave a button or two undone.” She had then hooked a finger under the front of Kurt’s collar and tugged lightly at his currently buttoned up all the way oxford shirt. “Seriously. You’re not a nun.”

He believed that he had succeeded fairly well on that point, judging from Blaine’s reactions. Blaine who was currently not looking away from him even while surrounded by friends and classmates. Blaine who then so confidently wrapped an arm about Kurt’s waist and subtly drew him closer. 

Several of the Warblers – including Sebastian, to Kurt’s satisfaction – were watching them while pretending not to. It was mostly with mild interest or mild entertainment, but Sebastian was watching with narrowed eyes. 

“Let’s go to your room,” Kurt proposed. Blaine nodded enthusiastically. 

…

“Make him come to you,” was what Santana had said. 

“Sebastian?”

“No, dumbass. Blaine. You go to Dalton, looking sexy, surprising your hobbit boyfriend so much that he forgets all his regular sense of decorum of whatever decade he’s from again. And then it will be clear to the crab from Little Mermaid who exactly Blaine wants… which is you, hopefully, if you can pull it off.”

…

They made out aggressively on Blaine’s bed until they were panting and red-faced, their clothes wrinkled and their hair pretty much the definition of sex-hair without the actual sex part. 

“This has been a nice surprise,” Blaine said with no sense of shame. 

Kurt straightened his shirt, then held out a hand. “Walk me out?”

Blaine took his hand and walked him down and out of the dorm and to his car. If plenty of other students saw them all rumpled and made assumptions, then all the more affective Kurt’s plan. 

When they got to Kurt’s car in the visitor’s parking, and had to say good bye, Blaine said instead, “I’d tease you for being jealous if I hadn’t enjoyed it so much.”

Kurt closed his eyes and suppressed a small moan. “Was it that obvious?”

“Yeah,” Blaine said, smiling. “But it was cute.”

“I didn’t want it to be cute. I wanted it to be sexy,” Kurt said, almost petulant. 

“You’re always sexy,” Blaine replied. He glanced around; they were all alone. He moved in close, pressing Kurt back against the side of his car and kissed him. “Always… Do you realize how hard it is to keep myself from letting my hands wander to inappropriate places?”

Kurt groaned for real this time. “If I hadn’t promised my dad that I’d be back for dinner, I’d take you back up into your room and… you know.”

“Yeah?” Blaine said, breathless. He forced himself to step back from his boyfriend, disconnect their bodies. They didn’t have the time right now, as much as he wanted to make this visit last. “Another time, then.”

Sebastian was waiting for him by his dorm room door when Blaine got back. 

“You look flustered,” Sebastian said. “The boyfriend work you up and then not finish the job? Because I can help with that.”

“Oh my god.” Blaine unlocked his door and when in. Before slamming it closed, he yelled out, “Bye, Sebastian.”


	19. Chapter 19

The steaming gurgle of the espresso machine was a soothing background noise as he sat down in his favorite, private corner of the Lima Bean with his favorite coffee after a particularly tiring day of school. 

What was not relaxing was none other than Sebastian Smyth joining Kurt without Kurt’s permission.

“What’re you doing here?” Kurt said in almost a whine. “Don’t tell me I’m the one who has to find a new coffee house.”

“Look, you can keep your small town... whatever this establishment is parading to be. I thought I would just let you know that you’re going to lose.”

Kurt raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What? Blaine? Because even a spoiled brat like you ought to know you don’t get to take people just because you want them. They have a say in the matter.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian said, smirking widely. “And his say is going to choose me. Who wouldn’t? Me, a hot, rich, sexually adventurous young man. Or you, a working class tease with a bad case of gay face and an annoyingly high voice.”

Kurt propped his chin up on his palm. “Hmm. Let’s add internalized homophobia to your list of attributes… I’ve dealt with worse than you in my short life. You don’t scare me.”

“I don’t care if I scare you or not. I don’t care what you think of me. All I care about is what Blaine thinks.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t think well of you at all. He’s too polite to use any stronger language.”

Sebastian leaned back in his chair, looking eerily of a stereotypical villain content in their schemes. “He’s around me five days a week, and I’m always available. He gets what from you? Part of the weekend and stolen away coffee dates? He’ll come around.”

“Here’s the thing,” Kurt said, leaning forward, a new intensity to his voice. “You don’t know Blaine. You don’t know what makes him laugh. You don’t know what makes him cry. You don’t know what it’s like when he smiles and it’s just for you. Or the way his eyes light up when he starts to talk about something he’s really passionate about.” Sebastian was rolling his eyes. Kurt upped the ante. “You don’t know what he looks like naked.” That got Sebastian’s attention. Kurt continued, “But I know all those things. Because he chose to let me know them.”

…

Kurt’s phone rang. “Hey, Blaine.”

“Kurt, did you taunt Sebastian with the fact that you’ve seen me naked and he hasn’t?” Blaine asked in a certain type of tone. 

“I wouldn’t exactly saw taunt,” Kurt replied. 

“Kurt.” Blaine was clearly trying to sound scandalized, but was really holding back laughter. “I’m more than just a body.”

“Did Sebastian happen to mention the things I said about your eyes or smile that were really sweet and romantic? No? Well, that’s Sebastian for you.” After he received no immediate response, Kurt asked, “Are you mad at me?”

“No.” Blaine’s voice was quick and reassuring. “I just wish you wouldn’t rise to his bait.”

“It’s like I said at the beginning of the school year. You’re off at Dalton most of the time, and I’m not. He’s there, I’m here.”

“But you’re the one I wish was here.” 

That made Kurt’s heart flutter. He didn’t doubt Blaine or his faithfulness, but he didn’t trust Sebastian. That snake got under his skin in the worst way. Plus, Kurt was sort of the king of verbal barbs, and if Sebastian insisted on engaging him, Kurt would parry. 

“I have something to ask you, actually,” Blaine said. “I got invited to a party this Friday.”

“Oh,” Kurt said. The two of them had tentative plans for that very same day. 

“It’s Jeff’s party, my roommate from last year. It’s at his house. He was really adamant about me going.”

“You can go…” Kurt said, but not all the confidently. 

“He said I should bring you along too.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that!” Kurt felt relieved. He didn’t want to miss out on one of his few days of seeing Blaine every week. 

“I didn’t think it would be your type of thing. Dalton parties tend to be kind of crazy. Lots of drinking. It’s like they have to get out all the tension from being polished, debonair young men all the time… We don’t have to go.”

It was the we that warmed Kurt’s heart and warmed him up to the idea. Yes, it didn’t exactly sound like his idea of a good time. He had a bad experience with being drunk, and large   
parties full of people he didn’t really know sounded more painful and less entertaining that his usual type of fun. 

“Let’s go,” Kurt said.

“Yeah?” It was Blaine’s excited voice then that made Kurt know he had made the right choice. 

…

“It’s loud,” Kurt had to yell even though Blaine is standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. 

“What? I can’t hear you. It’s really loud,” Blaine shouted back. Kurt looked un-amused. Blaine smiled winningly and mouthed, “Sorry.”

Kurt had expected Blaine’s idea of a wild party to have been perhaps a little exaggerated. Blaine – who was charming and polite, who sometimes wore bowties, who grinned easily and without contempt – didn’t seem like a wild party guy. Blaine, as it turned out, wasn’t so uncomfortable with this setting after all. 

“Come on,” Blaine said, but Kurt only knew he said it by reading his mouth. He grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him through the midst of people. The occasional person would catch Blaine’s eye and nod ‘hi’ or punch him lightly on the shoulder in greeting. They got over to a table with a large spread of alcoholic drinks, but noticeably no keg.   
Blaine selected a bottle of beer that definitely wasn’t one the less expensive name brands that Kurt was familiar with from commercials, so he could only guess it was imported and pricey, like everything in this house was. He couldn’t dream any parents letting their kid having a wild, teen party in a house this beautiful. Kurt had designated himself the driver and turned down Blaine’s offer to get him anything. (“I’m sure we can find something you like” Blaine had said on the way over before the party, but Kurt one experience with drinking had left him not interest, at least currently). 

“Hey, man!” shouted a voice over the crowd. It was Jeff, who was technically the host of this party, already red-faced. He staggered and threw an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “You came! And you,” he pointed a finger and poked it into Kurt’s chest, “Came. The man who tamed Blaine.”

“And how are you doing, Jeff?” Blaine said, cutting off that line of conversation. 

“Uh, great,” he said like Blaine was the epitome of stupid for asking such a question. He was, after all, already drunk at his own thriving party. He straightened up off of Blaine. “Have fun you too. Not that type of fun. In my house. Anywhere else is good.”

“Oh my god.” Kurt wasn’t heard over the noise of the party.

Jeff stumbled off to meet someone else, seeming to forget he was even talking to Blaine and Kurt. 

While the party mostly consisted of Dalton boys, there was also a sizable female population there as well. Other boys’ dates or girls from Dalton’s sister school. And as at any party there   
were young women, drinking, and music, dancing commenced. In this case, it started with a couple of girls in the center of the space of the open living room between the couches, and   
quickly grew. 

Blaine finished his beer, then went to find a recycle bin for his empty bottle, because he’s Blaine. When he returned to Kurt’s side, the dancing had grown full swing in the living room. 

“Do you want to dance?” Blaine asked him, mouth close to Kurt’s ear. 

“We’ve never done that before.”

“First time for everything.”

Kurt wanted to have all sorts of first times with Blaine. And second times. And infinite times. It wasn’t the place, though, to yell it over crowd, this intimate confession. Instead, he took hold of Blaine’s wrist then weaved them through the crowds to get to the impromptu dance floor. 

Kurt honestly wasn’t sure how to start. Thankfully, Blaine did. Blaine put he hands on Kurt’s hips and pulled him close. Kurt sucked in a hard breathe. It wasn’t a bad one. 

Blaine leaned in close to Kurt’s ear. “Don’t over think it.”

Kurt closed his eyes and followed Blaine’s order, following the thump and turn of the music to move his body. Sure, he had danced a lot for glee, but that was usually choreographed, or fooling around with friends, but was fooling around with friends. He hadn’t danced with a partner, with another boy, in an informal setting. Blaine slid his hands up and they settled firmly on Kurt’s waist and Kurt couldn’t bother to waste any more time analyzing. He just wanted to feel.

And feel he did: The weight and warmth of Blaine’s hand through his own shirt, Blaine’s breathe intermingling with his own, their bodies moving and shifting closer and closer together. He could drown in these sensations. 

Blaine pressed his forehead against Kurt’s then he rolled his face forward, kissing Kurt. They shared an easy set of kisses, not thinking, kisses that intensified as the song shifted from one upbeat dance song to another upbeat dance song. 

Someone wolf-whistled nearby. The two boys broke apart, stopped dancing.

“Are you sure I’m not drunk too… with all that PDA?”

“One beer does not a drunk make,” Blaine responded.

“But it does a Yoda make?”

“That was such a nerdy reference. I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yeah, living with Finn has been rubbing off on me. You should be careful, but next week, I might think wearing the same shirt third days in a row is acceptable.”

“The horror… Do you want to…?” Blaine was going to make to ask if Kurt wanted to continue dancing, perhaps with more kissing. They would see how it went. He was cut off.

“Blaine! There you are, man. We need a fourth for beer pong.”

Blaine looked from Nick to Kurt and back to Nick. “I’m sort of here with someone –”

“No,” Kurt cut him off with a hand on his chest. “Go have fun with your friends. It’s getting stuffy. I want to get some fresh air anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Blaine asked. 

“Yes,” Kurt said, and he was positive. He didn’t want to hog Blaine from his friends. “Find me on the porch when you’re done.”

“You’re amazing,” Blaine said, and he sounded actually wonderstruck as he said it. He leaned forward to peck Kurt on the lips before being dragged off by his friend. 

Kurt did as he told Blaine and went out to the front porch for air. It was only the beginning of autumn, and it was a moderate night. However, even moderate felt shocking cold after the heat of a crowd home and the motion of dance. 

…

It started with beer pong. Nick was absurdly brilliant at beer pong. Every sport he was forced to play in gym, he fumbled throws and catches, tripped over his own feet, but Nick dominated at beer pong. Blaine was on the team playing against Nick, so he had to drink a lot of beer. 

One quick game turned into two. A second game turned into a third. Then someone brought out shots and Blaine wasn’t even sure what they were shots of, but the boys were all goading each other on, even though none of them could do a shot without cringing, sputtering, or coughing. 

The organized game turned into a rowdy group of drunk friends.

“Well, well, able to cut loose when your girlfriend’s not here, Blaine.” Sebastian had, at some point, entered the game room. 

Blaine scoffed. “Kurt’s here, you asshole.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose to almost meet his hairline. “Drunk Blaine is mouthy. Is he also horny?”

Blaine rolled his eyes exaggeratedly as he leaned heavy against the wall. Before he could formulate a response – which was a bit difficult considering his muggy head – Nick was there. Nick was marginally less drunk than the rest of them considering the aforementioned awesomeness at beer pong which ended with him drinking somewhat less beer than those he was playing against. 

“Really? You’re still trying to hit on Blaine. You obviously missed him and his boyfriend making out really intensely on the dance floor earlier. It was seriously hot, and I’m straight.”

Blaine didn’t exactly remember what happened next, for he shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the cool wall. He thought intensely and poetically about Kurt’s lips.   
But Sebastian was gone. At least, for a while.

… 

Kurt was on the porch for a while. Longer than he anticipated, but he was sure Blaine hadn’t forgotten about him after that kiss. 

He was getting ready to in and find Blaine himself, when someone stumbled out the front door. It was a lanky, but not unattractive, teen boy with a mop of dirty brown hair who Kurt had never seen before in his life. In fact, Kurt was prepared to walk right past him and into the house, but this boy had zoned in on Kurt with hazy eyes.

“Hey,” this guy said. 

“Hi,” Kurt said tentatively, resigning himself to a conversation with a drunk. 

“You’re hot,” this guy said with no preamble.

“Um, thanks?” 

Hearing the tentativeness in Kurt’s voice, the guy countered, “You really are.” 

Kurt didn’t need to hear that other people, other boys, say he was attractive, but there was something pleasant about being affirmed that Blaine was a statistical anomaly of person who thought he was good-looking.

“I’ve never seen you around Dalton? I’m Evan by the way.”

“Kurt,” Kurt said. This guy, Evan, wasn’t nearly drunk as Kurt had first assumed he was. “And I don’t go to Dalton. I’m here with someone, though, from Dalton.” There. It had been made clear. Kurt Hummel was not single. 

“He left you alone?” Evan asked.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can. But why would he want to leave you alone? You’re divine.” This Evan said it so seriously.

Kurt couldn’t help but go a little pink, even if he was feeling a little uncomfortable at the same time. Evan wasn’t being untoward beyond knowing Kurt was here with a date and still hitting on him. Otherwise, he had moved into Kurt’s space, touching him, or blocked his path. But the conversation was going further and further away from just small talk and just friendly. 

“Um, divine. Wow.”

“You shouldn’t be surprised to be complimented.”

“Well, this is Ohio.”

Evan put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and Kurt eyed it, unsure. “You…” he started, but Kurt didn’t hear the rest. 

… 

“Hey, Blaine,” there was a tug at Blaine’s arm. He blinked open his eyes. Sebastian.

“Want to see something?” 

“Not from you,” Blaine said. 

Sebastian chuckled. Blaine didn’t want him to chuckle. He was serious. 

“It’s about Kurt.”

“Oh.” Blaine was now interested. “I like Kurt. Kurt’s awesome.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian’s voice is dismissive and tight. He latched a hand on Blaine’s arm right above Blaine’s elbow and leads him out of the room and through the house were most   
people are getting into the sleepy and/or weepy side of drunk.

Blaine followed Sebastian placidly as Sebastian lead him through the living room at the front of the house and then to the front door. 

“What’s this about Kurt?” Blaine asked Sebastian.

“Just that is looks like he found someone else, and maybe you should too.” 

That sentence was too long, spoken too fast, and its content was too absurd for Blaine to process in his alcohol-addled mind. 

Sebastian shoved him out the front door. And there was Kurt. And another guy, who was leaning in close, a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. (Evan, the back part of Blaine’s brain supplied. Evan, who Blaine had hooked up with in the past. Evan, who once like Blaine, didn’t do relationships). 

…

Kurt didn’t hear the rest, because his attention was snapped to Blaine tripping onto the porch. He briefly noticed Sebastian lurking in the doorway, wondering what exactly he was scheming, but didn’t have too much of a chance to dwell on it. 

Blaine started toward them not so steadily. Kurt broke away from Evan, and met his boyfriend halfway, putting a hand on either shoulder – standing an arm’s length away – to steady him. 

“Kurt, Kurt. Hey, Kurt. What’re you doing?”

Kurt ignored his question. “How drunk are you? And how did you get that drunk this fast?”

Blaine, similarly, ignored Kurt’s question. 

“Kurt,” Blaine said again, having a strange affinity for his boyfriend’s name in his drunken state. He pulled on close to Kurt and started pressing little kisses to the curve of Kurt’s neck. “I   
missed you,” he said between the kisses.

“That’s nice,” Kurt said, moving back for twofold purposes. One, Blaine’s breathe probably could have been light on fire, how heavy it smelled of alcohol. Second, Kurt could feel Evan’s eyes on them. It was one thing to make out in the sea of withering teenagers also single-minded on their dance partners. It was another with one person watching carefully. 

“Blaine’s your date?” Evan sounded not exactly skeptical and not exactly surprised, but somewhere between those two, perhaps with some derision mixed in.

Kurt glanced over his shoulder at Evan. “Yeah,” he answered, a little bit short, but he a very drunk boyfriend to deal with. 

“No,” Blaine said, now very loud. “Boyfriend.” Kurt jumped when he felt Blaine’s hand on his ass. 

“Really?” he asked Blaine, shifting away. 

Blaine clung to him. It wasn’t rough or anything, but like a shy child clinging to a parent, except there was nothing shy about Blaine’s behavior right now. 

“Baby,” Blaine whined, even though Blaine never called him baby, or babe, or any other weird pet name that made Kurt’s jaw clench. 

“Hi, Blaine,” said Evan dryly, obviously unimpressed by Blaine’s behavior. Kurt wasn’t exactly impressed either. 

“Hi, Ethan,” Blaine said.

“It’s Evan. And you know that.”

Something dawned on Kurt. “How well do you too know each other?” 

“Biblically,” said Evan.

Kurt closed his eyes and suppressed a groan. He was at peace with Blaine’s past, but not enough peace to be hit on by one of Blaine’s past casual lays. And now Blaine was drunk and acting ridiculous and jealous. And Kurt had to be the sober one actually suffering embarrassment from it. 

“Hey, hey.” Blaine was attempting to whisper in Kurt’s ear, but really was talking at regular volume into Kurt’s ear. “It’s okay, baby, I only want you now. I want you so bad.” He then pressed a kiss in the spot behind Kurt’s ear that was one of Kurt’s favorite places to be kisses, which really wasn’t fair. Blaine was somehow sober enough to remember that and execute it. 

“I think I better take you home,” Kurt said to Blaine, then to Evan, “It’s been…” he couldn’t in all honesty say nice, “Interesting.”

“Very,” Evan replied. 

Kurt wrapped an arm around Blaine’s waist, which Blaine leaned into, and started leading him steps of the porch. 

“I don’t figure I can sneak you into Dalton like this, could I?” Kurt muttered to himself, and loaded Blaine into the car.

…

Blaine went through phrases on the ride home. First he continued his incessant flirting. Then road sickness got to him, and he started moaning and groaning. Then he went silent, pressing his forehead against the cold window. 

“We’re at your house,” Blaine commented, the first thing in a while. 

“I’m not driving you back to Dalton.” Kurt opened his door, and rounded the car to get Blaine’s. He leaned over his boyfriend to unbuckle him, not trusting Blaine to the fine motor skills at the moment. He helped Blaine out of the car.

“You need to be quiet,” Kurt said, as he fumbled to unlock the front door. Inside his house, he was placed with the dilemma. Leave Blaine on the couch or take him upstairs to stay in his   
room? Kurt barely dwelled on it, and took Blaine up the stairs. 

It was an effort, but five minutes later, he was unwinding his hold on Blaine and dropping him onto the bed. 

“Take off your shoes,” Kurt commanded. Blaine immediately went to work. Kurt busied himself around his room – deciding to forget Blaine was there and quickly change into his pajamas, moving the trashcan next to Blaine’s side of the bed just in case, and so forth.

As he walked past the bed, Blaine (now shoeless) grabbed his arm in a weak grip.

“You’re so hot,” Blaine said. 

“That’s nice,” Kurt replied blandly. 

“No, really.” Blaine reached another hand up, resting it where it could reach on Kurt’s neck. “You’re amazing. And I just want to be with you, biblically.”

“Oh my God, never again try to say biblically in a sexy voice.”

“You think I’m sexy?” 

Kurt scoffed at Blaine’s one direction mind. He pushed the boy’s shoulder with his fingertips, making his fall back onto the bed. 

He climbed on the bed next to Blaine, wanting only to go to sleep and put this night behind him. Blaine had other ideas. He curled up behind Kurt and wrapped his arms around Kurt’s middle. He began trailing kisses along Kurt’s clothes shoulder.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, but it was much softer and much more content than he wanted it to come out. 

“It’s the moment, Kurt. We should – we should do it. Go all the way.” 

Kurt may have been on board to forgive Blaine enough for some pre-going to bed heavy petting, but this… no. 

“Blaine, stop.”

Blaine froze. “What?”

Kurt turned in Blaine’s hold in order to get eye contact with him. “Go to sleep.”

Blaine slowly uncurled off of Kurt and turned over on his pillow. A few minutes later, he had fallen asleep. It took Kurt quite a bite longer.

…

“Dad, nothing happened,” Kurt said with crossed arms. His father had, not ten minutes ago, walked into Kurt’s room to see Blaine passed out on Kurt’s bed. Now they were down in the kitchen, Blaine still asleep upstairs, and Kurt was explaining how it had comes to this. 

His dad looked at him with scrutiny. “You’re mad at him.”

“Yes, actually.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Well, good because that means you’re giving him the cold shoulder and cold everything else.”

Kurt wanted to protest this notion, but he was still tired and he didn’t think it would earn him any favors. He stared at the slowly brewing coffee maker instead. 

When there was enough, Kurt poured two mugs.

“You’re taking him hangover coffee even though you’re mad at him?” Burt questioned.

“I’m not vindictive.”

Kurt hurried away upstairs to his room as fast as he could while holding two cups of hot liquid. He stood by Blaine’s side of the bed and called out a simple “Coffee.”

Blaine sat up from where he had buried his head under a pillow. Blinking blearily, he reached out for the mug Kurt held out to him, then took a careful sip. He made a face. “Black,” he muttered.

Kurt gave him an unimpressed stare. Okay, Kurt was a little vindictive. It only took Blaine’s hungover mind a minute or so to process that this was his punishment. He grimaced down another sip. 

“So,” Blaine said, three fourths of his cup gone, “I did a lot of stupid things last night.”

“Yes,” Kurt agreed.

“Anyway you’ll forgive me?”

Kurt tilted his head in a way that Blaine recognized as consideration. “Maybe after some groveling,” Kurt said, his tone considerably less grave now.

“I’ll grovel as soon as I can move my head without feeling nauseous.”

Kurt sits down on the bed, next to Blaine, and the conversation shifts. “You know why I’m upset right?”

“I got handsy,” Blaine said, staring down into his almost empty mug. “I acted like a psycho boyfriend after having told you not to worry about Sebastian. I became a drunken mess.”

“Yes, those things irked me, but that’s not exactly it.”

Blaine looked up, looked Kurt in those piercing eyes of his. Kurt read now less of anger and more of disappointment. It didn’t make Blaine feel any better.

“I want our second first time to be special. Not because you’re inspired by jealousy, or are a horny drunk.”

“I want it to be special too,” Blaine insisted, leaning forward and cupping a hand around Kurt’s neck. “I was out of my head last night, and I’m sorry.”

Kurt leaned into Blaine’s hand. 

“I have to admit,” Kurt said after a long pause. “It was kind of nice to see you have to be the jealous one for once, but, really, it’s not your best side.”

Blaine heard it for what it was. Forgiveness.

“We’re very good at talking things out,” Blaine said.

“I think we learned our lesson when we were both in love with each other but were too big of idiots to admit it.”


	20. Chapter 20

“So, Blaine, you single yet?” It was, of course, Sebastian showing up out of nowhere to say this. 

Blaine clicked his pen in what he hoped was a dismissive way. “No.”

Sebastian snorted derisively.

Blaine looked up at him, unimpressed. “I don’t know exactly what you were hoping would go down at the party. Maybe that I would think Kurt was cheating – which is ridiculous – or that I would make a drunken asshole of myself – which I kind of did – and Kurt would never ever forgive me… but the thing is, Kurt and I have been through too much to let little things destroy us.

“And I get you probably don’t understand that, because you’ve never been in for anything but a quick lay. So let me say quickly and sufficiently, none of your little schemes are going to work. In fact, it’s getting rather pathetic.”

Sebastian had been rather unaffected through most of Blaine’s speech. Impressed, perhaps, by his sudden loquaciousness, but otherwise… it was the same romantic mumbo-jumbo   
that everyone and their mother spouted out. But it was at that word pathetic, that transformed his face into something distasteful. He said nothing more, and he left.

…

“Hey, Blaine, what’s up?”

“The other day I told Sebastian that his attempts to break us up and get in my pants were pathetic, and he hasn’t talked to be since.”

Kurt let out a surprised, but pleased laugh. “That would work, wouldn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“It’s makes sense, is all I’m saying,” Kurt said, adjusting his phone against his ear. “Sebastian prides himself on being the hottest thing that exists. Once you pointed out that his persistence wasn’t suave seduction, but, well, pathetic like it is, of course it upset him. That’s the opposite of everything he wants to be.”

“That’s a pretty in-depth analysis. Should I be worried about how much time you’ve though about Sebastian Smyth?”

“Know thy enemy,” Kurt said back, and Blaine could just imagine him looking snide.

“Hope he’s not too devastated,” Blaine said absently, maybe even concerned.

“Now don’t you go apologizing,” Kurt said quickly. “I know you like to be a gentleman, the bigger man, whatever, but Sebastian won’t understand that you are just being polite. He’ll   
think he has a chance again... I, for one, will be glad to put this all, to put him, behind us.”

“Me too, Kurt. Me too.”

…

Kurt was just sitting down to get some homework done during his free period, books stacked carefully around him on his very own library table. All of the sudden, Santana was there in the chair next to him.

“Do you even do homework?” Kurt asked her.

“Wow, already with the claws. I just wanted to chat.”

“You never just want to chat.”

“I actually do, right now.”

He looked up from his textbook. “Okay…” he said skeptically. 

“I never heard how things ended up with that Dalton guy who was making moves on Blaine,” Santana said. She raised a precisely plucked eyebrow. “You two get in a cat fight?”

“No,” Kurt said back confidently, “Because I’m not you.” Santana was the one, who, last year, got in altercations with both Quinn and Lauren Zizes in the school hallways.

She huffed and crossed her arms. Kurt knew he had won that one.

“He’s backed off, finally,” Kurt said. “Why do you care, again?”

“I like to know all my hard work’s paid off.”

Kurt side-eyed her. “Just admit it.”

“Admit what?” she spit out. 

“Admit that somewhere under your black devil heart… you care about me. You care about my happiness, and that I’m your friend.”

“I don’t have friends,” Santana said as a retort. “I have enemies and allies. Not friends.”

“And yet…”

“And yet,” she repeated around a sigh. 

“You know, if you ever decide to some out in high school… I’ll be there for you. Blaine will too. Even though you threatened him once.”

Santana snorted in laughter. “He told you about that,” she said with a proud smile. 

“Yes, a few months after. I think you really scared him.” He nudged her with an elbow goadingly. 

They sit quietly for a few moments. 

“I might,” Santana said, and it skipped back over the silence and the last few lines of dialogue. “Brittany and I are dating now.”

“I thought so,” Kurt said. 

“It’d be nice to take her to prom,” Santana said, and it was like she was stuck in a daydream. 

“I could bring Blaine, maybe…” Kurt wasn’t sure if Blaine would be comfortable at a school dance considering his past experiences, but it was a maybe. A nice maybe. That’s the thing   
about a future when you have people you love around you. There’s a lot of nice maybes to potentially look forward to. 

…

When he stopped and thought about it, it was surprising how much Blaine had come meshed within his life. Like this moment, a Friday night dinner. Finn was gobbling down his fourth serving of Carole’s actually pretty good meatloaf at the end of the table. No one ever wanted to sit next to him, because his wild elbows were dangerous. Blaine was sitting next to Kurt, across the table from Burt and Carole. They were laughing and chatting, and Blaine was affably charming as always. 

The kicker was that this wasn’t the first time a scene like this had played out in the Hummel-Hudson house. Wasn’t the second or any number that Kurt knew. It was just another scene at his home. His boyfriend and his family getting along like they were meant to be this way, in this place, in this combination.

Blaine helped Kurt clear the table after everyone was done and Carole joked about having Blaine around more often if he was going to help with chores. (Finn never helped with chores without prompting. Kurt didn’t think this was purposeful rudeness on Finn’s part, just general forgetfulness.)

Carole and Burt were going out on a movie date after dinner. Burt gave a gruff “be good, kids” before he left, the three teenage boys spread out on the living room couch. 

As soon as they heard the car’s engine fade in the distance, Finn popped of his end of the couch. 

“I’m going to Rachel’s,” he announced. “It’s her dads’ date night too.” He grabbed a jacket, and was out the door.

“Oh, god,” Kurt said.

“What?”

“They’re having sex… I don’t need to think about Finn having sex. I don’t need to think about Rachel having sex. I don’t need to think about straight sex, period.”

Blaine chuckled lightly and placed a somewhat chaste kiss in a somewhat sensual place behind Kurt’s ear. “Then don’t.”

Kurt gripped his hands tight in his lap in containment. “Well,” he said in a forced blasé, “It seems that we have unexpectedly been left alone in my house.”

Not half a minute later the two of them were rushing up the steps to Kurt’s bedroom. Once there, Blaine playfully tackled Kurt onto the bed. Elated in a giggly sort of way, they just stared   
at each other a moment as they caught their breath from the sprint up the staircase. Their noses were almost touching and it was almost hard for Kurt to keep his vision from crossing. 

“Blaine?”

“Hmm.”

“This is it. This is the moment,” Kurt said. No other clarification was needed.

“It is,” Blaine said, the sweetest smile on his face, a perfect agreement. 

It started with a kiss. They were careful and soft, but sure in everything. Blaine stroked his fingers across the side of Kurt’s neck; Kurt clutched Blaine’s shoulder, a firm grip pulling him in. 

They poured everything into that kiss. Not just their feelings, but also what they were willing to risk and what they were willing to give. Because it’s never just about how you feel, but what you are willing to commit with those feelings. For Kurt and Blaine, they needed no words. They had their words in the past. This was an affirmation of action. 

Blaine was half-rolled on top of Kurt. Both were hard purely from proximity, a testament to how much they had been denying themselves and each other. Both could feel the other’s hardness, but it was hardly the center of their focus. Their focus was on the entirely on the person they were sharing this moment with, and what insurmountable thing they were together.

All self-imposed barriers gone, they didn’t have to pull back or not satisfy. Unwilling to part their mouths and unwilling to remove hands from the intimacy of neck and shoulders and hair, they rutted against each other. They just wanted to feel, indulge, and get off with each other. 

And they did, gasping into each other’s mouths. Blaine’s body went limp on top of Kurt’s – who felt distinctly like spaghetti himself – and Blaine let his face bury in curve of Kurt’s neck.

Coming out of his post-orgasm haze, Kurt shifted uncomfortably. “We didn’t even get our clothes off.”

“It was perfect,” Blaine murmured into Kurt’s shoulder. 

“It was a first,” Kurt said derisively. It was true. He had never come in his pants with Blaine before. 

Blaine pushed up on his elbows, skimming Kurt’s jaw with his lips as he did so. Their gazes locked, and Kurt was left staring into Blaine’s intensely feeling eyes at an extremely close   
proximity. 

“Kurt,” he said, his gentle, deep voice soothing anything disquieted inside Kurt. “It’s perfect.”

Then and there, Kurt believed in that perfection.

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen AU stories that have either Klaine kiss or start dating from Never Been Kissed, so it came into my head, what would happen if they started having casual sex from Never Been Kissed while I kept them in character as much as I could despite this being quite a bit different than the Kurt and Blaine we met in season 2. My aim is to have Blaine as his charming, supportive self (his motivations will be explored more in later chapters) and to have Kurt acting on the really bad place he was in during season 2 in a different way.


End file.
